


Avatar: Rise of Suro

by Sitend



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 16:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8675125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sitend/pseuds/Sitend
Summary: Nearly two decades after the passing of the previous Avatar, the world finds itself out of balance. The elements still find their place among the blessed few, but has culture and technology outpaced and antiquated ancient roles bound by martial art held sacred for millennia? Avatar Suro must find his answer as he realizes his role in a modern world is called into question.  (Crosspost from FF.net)





	1. Escape (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's been imprisoned for years. Until now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fanfic is a crosspost from my FF.net account. The chapters will be uploaded in more palatable chunks due to Ao3's more flexible features. Thanks for viewing this story and I hope you'll enjoy it. Comments and any other interaction would be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> ~Sitend

* * *

**ESCAPE**

* * *

 

He knows the cell won’t keep him for long. The reinforcements come once every few weeks by Satomobile and the current window is three days until he can feel the rush again, so he has some time. There’s a desert outside this tower, but it won’t stop him. He knows there have to be at least a few rocks out there large enough. If he can’t find them, he’ll have to just make them.

He shivers slightly as he presses his half-exposed back to the metal wall. The person in the cell is a young man and still has nothing more than a few errant hairs sprouting from his chin. He can approximate that he is approaching twenty within a couple of years or so. Judging by the increasing feeling of claustrophobia, he thinks it perfectly fit to assume that he’s at least a little bit taller than before. His hair is long, shaggy, and light brown, and his eyes a silvery-hazel much like the metal bars of his holding cell used to be before they rusted over.

In his mind he sits on a small raft in a great storm, holding a jar. Every time the waves strike, a familiar memory tries to peek into his mind through the jostled lid. Not too long ago he had a nightmare of the memory and right as he woke up in a cold sweat, he suddenly could not remember.

Now all that remains of that part of his life is the mild queasiness when he thinks about it.

His mind drifts back to his escape. He decided on his second name a long time ago.

Hmm...

He knows it should have a snap to it, something new to represent the new him. He recalls the moment he came up with it: 

* * *

 

_S or J. S or J?_

_S-s-s-s Saro?_

_No._

_J-j-j-j Jaten?_

_No._

_Jentang?_

_No._

_Suro?_

* * *

 

Suro.

He decided he liked that name. It’s easy to pronounce and light on the tongue.

Suro, having chosen a title, began pondering a strategy for escaping. A few weeks ago however, an opportunity presented itself. During a particularly hot night where the air ventilation in the prison had broken, Suro rolled around and avoided the walls, which became hot to the touch. The floor wasn’t much better, but at least it wasn’t the same metal as the walls.

In desperation, he waved his arms around to make the metal walls yield. But during the process, he noticed that the sweat that came off his body hung in the air.

He quickly learned that he could control the shape and temperature of the liquid and immediately utilized it to cool himself off. When he finally returned to a more collected state, he realized the implication of what he had just done. He didn’t believe it, but it happened before his very eyes. 

He could bend water. 

From then on, Suro would try various ways to summon sweat as practice. He was very eager to be able to bend again. Thinking too deeply about it brought back that familiar nausea though, so he didn’t. 

The next day, he tried bending his sweat again. That time, however, felt much different from the night before. Suro felt his ability to control the flow of the fluid greatly enhanced, so much so that he believed that he could break out. Yet, even still he was still not skilled enough; no matter how hard the ice crystals he formed were, the bars weren’t even scratched. Suro noted the only visible effect on the bars was the buildup of rust over the course of the following weeks. 

Suro’s fears that the bars would give away his bending soon subsided as no guard ever took notice, most likely chalking up the wear due to a leaky pipe increasing the air moisture. During that night’s frenzied attempts to escape, he accidentally slipped, and his crystals flew far past the bars and down the long corridor. Upon hearing a faint shattering noise in the distance, Suro dejectedly leaned his forehead against a bar. Then, a few seconds of silence later, he shuddered in irritation.

After a while of sitting, Suro tried to collect some more sweat by attempting to bend at his left arm. The result immediately sent Suro screaming in pain, as his arm contorted and his flesh squirmed under his skin.

Suro had discovered that he could bloodbend.

Approximately four weeks later, he felt the same rush. Suro’s escape plan will come to fruition in about three days, the projected third time of the full moon. For now, he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

He dreams of freedom.

* * *

 

_He missed it._

How could he possibly have missed it? The most important matter in the world to him and he slept through it. At least the rush came on time, if not only for a short while after he woke up. Nothing could change his resolve to escape, so he is determined to succeed next time. 

Suro sits still, listening to the creaking sounds in the hall outside. His food tray is empty and neatly placed on top of the small shelf on the back wall of his cell. He doesn’t want the roaches to come back again. It isn’t that he fears them as much as they only kind of give him spinal chills. He’s sure of it. 

At least he thinks so. 

Suro has not recently had the time to question his miraculous new abilities, as his thoughts have been floating between mastering his skills, escape, and speculation on the outside world. Suro imagines great temples and towering skyscrapers, topped with slanted roofs made of neatly arranged arching tiles. 

Suro closes his eyes, folds his legs beneath him, and clasps his hands. For some strange reason, the need to meditate emerges in his mind. Despite not knowing why this urge has surfaced, Suro plays along and takes a deep breath. 

* * *

 

Flashes overtake his vision despite his closed eyes. Brightness fills his conscience. 

After a few short seconds, valleys and fields start to encompass him. Mountains grow in the distance, and dense foliage sprouts everywhere. Suro feels himself present somewhere disconnected from his body, yet closer than ever to his soul. His mind starts to lower him down into one of the vast green fields below. 

As Suro looks down, he sees various forms gently moving around below. The closer he gets, the more he recognizes some of the animals- there he sees a lion-wolf, a polar-bear dog not too far away from it, and a large beast that he can only guess to be some kind of pile of hair lying near the treeline, unmoving.

His feet touch the grass and although he feels the moistness of the soil and greenery below, he doesn’t feel any of the weight of his body pressing down. Suro is confused at this turn of events and about this new world, but since he hasn’t seen anything of nature within his recent memory, he takes in his surroundings and enjoys the feeling of being free. The air he breathes in puts no pressure on his lungs and no force upon his core, and once more, Suro’s instinct to meditate draws him yet again to seat himself and resume his previous pose.

He breathes slowly and gently for a moment, and then feels a presence approach him. He opens his eyes eagerly to see what awaits him now. The forests around him have disappeared and now Suro is floating in a chasm.

Before him stands a middle-aged woman of a medium-tan complexion, dressed in a blue robe with a fur draped on her shoulders. Wavy patterns decorate her attire, and her brown, long hair is bound up in thin blue rolls. She leans on a staff, with bright blue eyes fixed on Suro. Her facial expression is of great curiosity and nervousness at the same time.

Suro wants to say something to her, but when he opens his mouth, only a dry, creaky whisper comes out.

“Whooo?”

He had forgotten that he had not spoken in a long time, so he clears his throat and tries again.

“What?”

The woman in front of him chuckles as he struggles out another sound. She speaks up with a gentle voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m kind of new at this too. You see, there are things that I can’t really explain right now, and there are things I have to say. But it’s good to see that you’re back in a way, which means I’m back too. I don’t know how to help you just yet, but I can give you a little head-start on something I was good at. I hope this helps.”

She raises her arms towards Suro and lowers her head. Suddenly, Suro is blown back by an invisible force and is engulfed by a red energy emanating in waves from her open palms. Suro feels a new kind of rush, similar yet altogether the opposite of the one that gave him the ability to draw the sweat from within his very skin. He closes his eyes, and suddenly feels the hard floor of his cell once more.

* * *

 

Suro tries to force out some kind of energy by punching forwards through the air. He hears a small hiss and feels heat around his arm. Suro opens his eyes. The feeling of whatever he just did isn’t like the flow of spinning around droplets of a liquid. It feels as if he is controlling the energy within him, and is gently letting it whip out from his fist.

He punches the air yet again. This time, Suro is greeted by the same gentle hissing as well as a coin-sized fireball briefly shooting out of his clenched fist. It lights the cell around him in a small sphere, the light reflecting off of the walls momentarily before it fizzles out.

He stands up from his seated pose and tries again. Suro shoots small flames forward in between the bars of the cell and sends them down the hall. The fire illuminates a seemingly endless hallway as it gives Suro brief glimpses of countless cells on either side before it dies out.

Suro freezes up in fear, realizing that he could have woken up everyone around him in the neighboring cells. He couldn’t practice firebending again without the risk of him being discovered.

Nevertheless, Suro starts to grow excited, as he had just discovered a whole new ability that can aid him. He knows he needs to be careful, though; being caught bending in here would get him thrown into one of the most isolated and cramped cells the guards could get their hands on. He can distinctly remember an incident close to when he first was imprisoned, where the neighboring prisoner managed to teach himself to bend the metal of the impossibly pure bars of his own cell.

Suro had thought that bending such pure metal was impossible, but then again, seeing as how he can now bend three different elements, nothing seems impossible anymore.

As Suro continues to ponder the possibilities that his newfound powers can provide, he feels the rush wear off and the normal fatigue of wasting away in a prison cell return to his body. It is once again late in the night, as it usually is when Suro rises to practice and plan. Feeling exhausted, Suro feels lethargic and wants to sleep. Tomorrow night he will expand upon his control of fire.

One step closer every night, he thinks.

* * *

 

As scheduled this upcoming night, the rush will come again. Suro feels guilty of having somewhat wasted the last few weeks, since after the night he was introduced to fire, he has been unable to replicate the fireballs, let alone any fire at all. Regardless, Suro found something to do in focusing and controlling the same energy which let him bend fire in the first place.

Feeling a marked improvement over his ability to control the flow of energy, he is certain that tonight, combining fire and water, he can make his final attempt at escaping. Suro is reclining on his small cot, unable to fall back to sleep. This night had not granted him the rest he craved before the grand finale of his days imprisoned, but Suro doesn’t mind.

Truthfully, at a moment in time like this, Suro wouldn’t mind celebrating with some food or drink, but he had already consumed his share earlier this day. Never mind that now; Suro must clear his thoughts and focus on his meditation. It is obvious that he will not be able to use fire, but if he can talk to that woman again, she might grant him the power he seeks, if only for a short while.

He tries imagining the vivid scenery of the world of spirits he visited, but to no effect. Suro thinks in his mind about every detail, hoping to spark once more the same transcendent feeling of his mind coming into line with his spirit. He imagines the grass, then the weightlessness of his body, as well as the trees and valleys. Yet no matter how many mountains or flowers he can recall, the feeling does not return.

Suro may not be able to force himself into the spirit world, but maybe he can gain access to the dark chasm where he met the woman. He focuses on emptying his mind of every thought and every image. Although it takes him a long while to picture the void, when he finally feels himself slipping into his spirit body, only silence and darkness greet him.

He floats there and after slowly growing more and more discomforted with the eerie quiet, calls out.

“Hello?”

No response, as he had expected.

He pulls himself back to his body and reopens his eyes. Once again, the cell fills his view. He guesses that he’ll have to try practicing his energy manipulation until the rush comes.

Suro starts focusing his energy into his forearms, accumulating the flow until he can feel it pooling around his joints and muscles. The energy eventually makes its way to his hands, and he feels his wrists acting as a passage between the rest of his body, where most of his energy resides, and his hands, where he can release it to form fire.

When Suro feels ready to whip the energy out of his hands, he folds his ring finger and pinky back, leaving only his middle and index finger pointed outwards and thrusts forward into the air. A series of small, almost invisible blue sparks shoot out from his fingertips, followed by a flame the size of a candle’s lit end. Suro tries to keep his energy focused as much as he can, but within seconds, it fans and dies out once more.

Amazed at not only the fact that he once more can firebend, if only in the most minute quantity, he has also discovered something else, something more concentrated and more exhausting to control than fire. Once more, Suro focuses his energy, but instead of fire, only a single spark emerges. Despite having put on the smallest fireworks show in history, Suro feels more tired than the last time he firebent. Perhaps he is not cut out for the massive amount of energy required to bend fire.

Despite his conclusion that it is too taxing to firebend repeatedly, Suro feels that something is not quite right. Why would it take so much energy if others can do it quite easily? Heck, even children born with the ability can use it essentially from their conception. For now, he should probably avoid firebending unless he wants to pass out.

A feeling starts to creep up on him. The rush is once more upon him, giving him the edge he has waited for. Somehow, he must break the bars of his cell.

* * *

 

Suro ponders about the relationship between fire and water. If water is controlling the movement itself, and fire is controlling the energy surrounding the flow of the movement, then do the two combined not represent energy and motion? If Suro can harness the energy and motion within his mind, he can certainly bring it within the reach of his body.

Suro imagines a spinning wheel. One half is shining, exuding energy. The other half calmly holds up both sides, taking in the energy its twin half is giving off, then feeding it back to it. He focuses his energy into his left arm and pushes the flow of his blood towards there as well. The pain almost makes him want to stop and scream immediately, but his willpower holds him back, although barely. His flesh is contorting and twisting, almost as if trying to escape the clutch of his skeleton.

Suro uses his right hand to point his fingers and draw as much energy from his arm as he can. He sees his skin bubbling and moving, and feels the sting of not only his muscles, but also skin aching from the force of his blood.

Finally, after what seemed to Suro as an eternity of pain and excruciation, he has focused himself sufficiently enough to begin drawing his own blood out of his body. Suro concentrates on the water within his blood and surrounds the emerging droplets with his energy. Small glowing crimson drops start to emerge from his skin. Each one has its own aura of fire as it joins an accumulating glob of blood that Suro is creating in front of him. His left arm starts to shrivel up from the draining and the pain intensifies, burning and ripping his muscles.  
Suro keeps pressing on with his attempt. By now, an almost fist-sized ball of glowing crimson fluid is hovering right above his arm.

Suro doesn’t know how much damage he is doing to his body, but he pushes those thoughts aside and presses on. At this point, if Suro were to extract any more blood, he would pass out. The wooziness hits him hard, yet he hangs onto his control to the best of his ability.

He is ready now.

Suro stops withdrawing his fiery blood and opens his right palm over the sphere. He moves it quickly over to the bars of the cell and starts striking as hard as he can. The bars start to scorch and just as he is about to let go, Suro loses control over all of his being. His eyes start to glow white with energy, and he rises onto his feet.

He slips into unconsciousness as some greater force takes over.

Suro’s body enhances the fire to the point that it burns blue, as the flames extend to the walls of the cell and out into the corridor. His blood becomes as solid as the hardest metal, superheated by the energy around it. He swings his right arm furiously, cutting through the metal and sending the pained cries of shrieking enforced steel throughout the halls.

* * *

 

Wenji is thinking about what his wife will make him when he gets home from duty. He yawns; the moon’s light slowly starts to filter into the office from the vent above him. Thankfully, the air conditioning is turned on. If it weren’t for that, the only thing that would differentiate him from the prisoners would be the lack of bars. The room around him is dry and dusty. No drinks allowed. No food allowed. No contaminant substances allowed.

Wenji raises his feet onto his desk, his boots clanking as they hit the metal tabletop. He leans forward slightly to better gaze out of the thick, armored glass windows. His superintendent guard’s office hangs underneath the ceiling of the prison, revealing the full view of the cell blocks below. The prison extends downwards beneath the ground approximately forty stories. At least that was the correct answer on the test to apply for this position.

The last time Wenji got a raise was… hmm. He can’t even remember. He was one of the younger superintendents. And one of the few that weren’t shoved into the position based on how much their fathers paid into the superfund to “maintain the prison.” His tenure here is soon to be over, and just in time too. His daughter finally finished her literary studies at Ba Sing Se University and is coming home again. His father also recently managed to sell off his small fishing company to one of those business conglomerates and was paid quite handsomely.

Wenji is glad that something good came of his father’s business. The last time he spoke to his father was quite a while ago, when he said goodbye after heading off to Republic City. He was going to enroll in the civil service initiative, which had started to give opportunities to unprivileged villagers to become civil servants. The day he received the letter granting him acceptance was possibly the happiest in his life. This new change of direction would allow him to meet that girl he had been corresponding with by mail.

He had met her during a vacation his family took when he was an adolescent. Wenji was walking down the street when he saw her. He recognized her as one of the actresses on his favorite TeleVarrick program, _I Love Flamey_. He knew he had to approach her and at least get her autograph. Through years of practice, Wenji had developed strong social skills to counteract his somewhat chubby appearance. Although the exact details are fuzzy years later, Wenji takes pride in himself with the self-remark that those must have been some mighty fine words, as that woman is now waiting for him at home, no doubt dressing up in her favorite formal attire. Her ‘Little Co-star’ is coming home again.

Wenji sighs with relief and picks up a newspaper, closing his eyes and settling in for the home stretch of the relaxing several days before his vacation. It isn’t long before the Elemental Times becomes the thin barrier holding his head back from touching the metal of the table. The long night ahead fades into his dreams of boar-cow roasts.

A silent alarm starts buzzing in through the intercom as soon as the bars were breached. The radio operator spills his tea on himself as he jumps out of his seat. The blaring intensifies as the call to arms reaches the guards assigned to that cell block.

Being rather new and inexperienced, the operator starts to slap at the volley of switches in front of him. In his panic, he powers down the prison defense countermeasures. Without noticing the error, he continues to yell commands into the microphone in front of him. The only words he was taught were along the lines of “organize,” “clear,” and “to arms,” so he yells an assortment of each of them. In the next room, the operator hears a series of thuds and metallic scrapes. It is not long before a confused and angry Commander Wenji shows up in the doorway of the radio room with a large bruise on his forehead and his palms over his ears.

* * *

 

Prisoners in the vicinity of the chaos clamor to the front of their cells, witnessing this frightening display of power. Most of them are cheering wildly, shrieking encouragement or yelling at the top of their lungs in the most primal way they can. Other prisoners stare, bewildered.

Suro’s body acts on its own accord, stepping out of his cell. It then starts running down the hall, whipping flames left and right, destroying every bar of every cell on either side.

It is not long before the joyous yells of escaping convicts echo behind Suro and the men start rushing out to follow him. By this time, guards have flocked to stop the riot-in progress, but they are too late and too few in number. Several of them try to charge Suro’s body, but he fires a blast of wind at them, sending them flying backwards until they hit a railing in the distance, grunting as they impact the cold steel.

Suro reaches an intersection of prison walkways. Below, many stories of cell blocks go down, descending into oblivion. Above, several stories of cell blocks pile up until they touch the ceiling. Here, his body propels itself upward with wind and slashes through the ceiling with its fire blood.

The metal scrap from the ceiling peels away, screeching loudly and shining a blinding white light onto the prisoners. Suro’s body lands gently onto a railing, guarding the overlook of the chasm of cell blocks. It stops for a moment as the metal parts away downwards to form a ramp. Light from the outside has filled the prison and now illuminates the ragged, disheveled forms of the desperate prisoners behind Suro.

Their faces are joyous, yet frightened. Some more experienced and older prisoners hold steady, quietly shuffling behind, while others continue yelling energetically. Suro’s body starts moving as soon as the metal ramp reaches the level of the railing and charges forward into the moonlight. He dashes up the steep incline with ease using the assistance of blasts of air.

The prisoners charge forward, jumping over the railing and climbing the ramp. They almost trample the bodies of the dispatched guards at their feet in their hurry, kicking them around as they rush past. Suro is now on the flat roof of the prison tower, overlooking a vast, unforgiving desert. Seemingly having performed its task, the force releases Suro’s body from its grasp and the glowing light in the eyes dies out.

His frail form falls heavily onto the metal, slamming with a twang as his head hits the solid roof.

Most of the prisoners rush out and hop onto the sand a couple of stories below the tower. Since most of the tower is buried under the sand, the distance between the roof and the desert ground is no more than three prison cells tall.

Many of the prisoners are gone after a few short moments, having surfed off to their freedom atop stones. A group of about four prisoners, however, stays behind and tends to their liberator. They hoist him up onto their shoulders and hop onto the sand.

The group summons a large, flat rock from deep beneath the sand, causing the ground to rumble lightly as the crunch of snapping sand rings out. They place Suro’s body at their feet and swing their arms in a circular motion, as if pulling an invisible rope, causing the rock to propel forward. As they gain a lot of distance between the prison and their stone vehicle, the four men look back at their home of captivity.

The outside walls of the tower are grey and chipped, and the roof is flat, reflecting some of the moonlight at the escapees. Looking from the outside of their cage inwards made it seem smaller than it actually was.

The men move out into the desert, and over the horizon of the full moon.


	2. Escape (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suro wakes up to the group who had carried him out of the prison after hitting unconsciousness, however, that is not all he finds...

* * *

**ESCAPE (PART II)**

* * *

 

Suro awakes at the mouth of a rock overhang. Shade falls onto his face, shielding him from the blistering heat of the desert. He sits up and looks around. Nearby, he sees four raggedly-dressed men bathing in a pool of water surrounded by a few palm trees. The water is a peaceful clear blue. From the trees hang small, melon-like fruits of a grayish-green color.

Suro coughs into his right arm dryly and rises to his feet. He feels the cool sand between his toes and remembers his escape plan from yesterday. The moment he thinks back to his most recent memory, a pain shoots up his left arm, and he yells out. The men turn around and watch Suro fall backwards, clutching his left arm in pain.

Suro looks upon his damaged appendage, tears welling up in his eyes. The skin is swollen and pale blue while his wrist and lower elbow are shriveled, giving away the outline of the bones underneath.

One of the men rises from the group and walks towards Suro. He wears a smile and soft brown eyes, his hair long and seemingly in between a state of graying and being youthful. The man looks down at Suro and Suro looks up at the man.

“Looks like you did more to yourself than any force of nature ever could. Let me look at that for you,” He says in a soft voice.

Hesitantly, Suro raises his arm towards the man.

“You put on quite the show last night, you know?” The man continues, “Freeing everyone on the block may have been an unwise choice, but I guess you were lucky enough that we were there. I’d like to think of it as some kind of fate. I am Brott, former member of the White Lotus, and these are my fellow group members. We brought you with us when we escaped, since we are indebted to you.”

Suro carefully clears his throat and then speaks up. “I’m Suro… Thank you. But… I don’t think you should be grateful to me.”

Suro feels genuinely grateful, and wants to thank this man more, but he is curious about what Brott meant by “show.”

“Nonsense, eh… Suro! Don’t be shy about it. Last night you cut up the bars of our cells, burst through the roof, and that’s how we escaped. You were all like ‘I’m glowing, taste my fiery wrath, prison!’”

Brott speaks like a small child would, and with the same energetic tone as well. He coughs.

“So I don’t mean to intrude, but what got you in there? I’ll tell you what got us in the slammer if you share your story. You seemed to be pre-tty eager to get out.” Brott continues.

Suro winces and breathes in sharply.

“...Or not. I guess I’ll just tell you ours.” Brott quickly adds.

Suro calms down. Brott starts up again.

“So, it was about ten years ago, and our little group had recently ditched the squares at the White Lotus. We hid in warehouses, slums, and even greenhouses, but the police eventually found us. We weren’t exactly bad guys, but the punishment for desertion was severe and after what we saw we couldn’t work for... th-that’s a story for some other time! Uh anyway, as I was saying, they threw us in the locker, and since the punishment had to be severe, they made sure it was one of the best kind of lockers. Ooh, maybe like one that throws away its own key. Wouldn’t that be funny?”

Suro’s cocked head and lack of reaction clues Brott in that he didn’t get the joke. Suro still wants to know more about last night.

“Uh. What exactly did you see last night? What did I do?” Suro asks.

“Well your eyes were kinda glowing, and you used some weird firebending to cut through your bars first, then everyone else’s, and then finally the roof. I didn’t even know fire could burn like that! I didn’t think anything could break the bars, except you know, that one guy a few years ago. But unlike that guy, you set everyone on the block free, and there’s probably going to be a lot of convicts showing up at your doorstep in a few years thanking you for giving them a second lease.” Brott replies.

“On the other hand, that prison held not only political prisoners such as ourselves, but also some real nasty guys. The type of guys that if you met in a dark alleyway or in the middle of the night, you’d wind up on the next day’s newspaper, and not for the reasons that you might think. What I’m saying is, those especially dangerous guys mean bad news for anyone they come across. My friends and I feel that they should be captured and returned to where they belong, and also hopefully somewhere along the way, we’d pardoned for our transgression all of those years ago. Oh, that reminds me. We would be glad if you came along with us for at least a little bit. We could use someone with your skills in our travels.”

A small amount of pain starts up in Suro’s arm. The dry, hot air is damaging his vulnerable skin. Brott notices Suro’s forearm in his hand and makes an expression as if he has remembered something, then raises a piece of cloth from his side and binds Suro’s wounded arm.

Suro ponders for a moment. Although unsure whether or not to trust his new companion, he soon realizes that what Brott said must have been true. And if that is the case, he needs to help recover the convicts and prevent them from doing any harm. Something in the back of his mind nudges him with a feeling of déjà vu regarding the thought of saving others, but he ignores it for the moment.

Suro understands that it is his duty to right his wrong.

“I feel that it is my duty to help you, seeing as how it was mostly my fault that they escaped, but I don’t exactly know how to bend fire that well at the moment. Or water, as a matter of fact. It took pretty much all I had to break out, and even then, that wasn’t enough. Whatever it was that you saw gave me my powers that night, so I probably won’t be of much use.” Suro admits.

Brott frowns. “No worries. Just show us what you can do. Also by any chance, did you get any of those Varrex treatments when you were a kid?”

Suro has never heard of such a thing, but then again he doesn’t remember much from his childhood. “I’m not sure, since the prison takes up much of what I know.”

Those words, although not intended to be anything special, seem to cut into Brott’s consciousness. His natural smile melds itself into a thoughtful stare. Brott’s eyes show a sense of deep sadness; Suro assumes it is due to him being a young man, yet the prison having eaten up most of his life in terms of memory.

Brott shakes off the intense thoughts and directs Suro to the oasis. The bathing men have left their places by now and reside to Suro’s left, resting under the shade of the large rock formation above them. Suro approaches the water, which glimmers as he stands over it. Half of the pool is hidden under the shade, while the half away from Suro is surrounded by the light yellow sand, exposed to the harsh desert sun.

Suro focuses on the water and the stillness of the pool. He thinks of the flow of a river, which enables him to focus his energy in a circular manner within his body. Suro stands there, feeling the circulation of blood inside of him and reflects on how the flow of motion of any material, whether liquid or solid, mirrors the flow of the different energies.

Suro raises his right arm to a ready stance and slowly tries pulling the water out of the oasis. At first, only ripples pierce the surface of the calm pool. As Suro tenses up ever so slightly, an arm of water rises from the smooth surface.

The clear droplets gather in an increasing amount to form a gently vibrating column of water. With a few interlocking flicks of the wrist, Suro sends the water spiraling around and forms a small spout, which starts gathering more water as it grows. Suro then pulls his arm back to his side, causing the spout to fly towards him. The water seems like it is about to encircle him before Suro pushes forward with his hand, causing the water to stop in mid air and smoothly turn to surge in the opposite direction.

Appeasing both his own curiosity and Brott’s expectations, Suro lets the water go. The momentum of the liquid through the air causes it to fly beyond the pool and splash onto the sand, sizzling slightly. As the last of the water hits the sand, Suro and the Lotus outcasts hear an ethereal wail of pain emanating from the oasis.

Suro jumps back. Out of the water, a ghostly-looking creature rises. Its lack of limbs and its strange, elongated form send shivers down Suro’s spine. What is this? Some kind of giant oasis snake?

The long body of the floating creature hangs down, touching the pool of water. It cranes its head downwards, towards Suro.

**“Who dares desecrate my oasis?”**

Its long snout hides bared fangs beneath it. Below the ridge of its forehead lay its eyes, yellow and vertically cut by slit pupils. “ **I am the snake-eel guardian spirit of this oasis. Explain yourselves or prepare to face the consequences of your actions.”**

“Uh, I am very sorry, spirit of the oasis.” Suro tries to explain,  “I- I didn’t know there were any spirits in this oasis… or around here at all. I was only practicing waterbending on-“

 **“YOU TRIED BENDING** **_MY_ ** **SACRED WATERS?!”** the spirit bellows, opening its multi-fanged jaws.

“Well, I can explain. I was only trying to see if I _could_ bend. If I knew there was someone living here, I certainly wouldn’t have done anything to try to desecrate their home.” Suro continues.

Staring into Suro’s eyes, the spirit moves in closer, pressing the tips of its nostrils against Suro’s chest.

**“Mhm. Hmm.”**

The creature mumbles, and then moves back to its previous position watching Suro from above. **“You should have simply told me that you were coming, Avatar. I would have allowed you to touch my waters had you merely asked. Next time just notify me.”**

“Wait! What do you mean ‘Avatar’?!”

The snake spirit starts to sink back into the waters, but Suro’s call stops it. It stops and looks back at Suro. After sensing that he is serious, the spirit lets out a deep, hissing laugh.

**“Oh, this is just delicious. You don’t know yet do you? I can sense spirits and gauge their kind; I’ve seen yours before. A similar, rude young man dressed in orange attire with an arrow on his head, feigning the same sense of ignorance. If you would like to atone for meddling with my home, prove to me that you are of the same spirit from back then and I will forgive you.”**

“How?” Suro asks.

The spirit laughs again. “ **Hehehe, fine. You’ve made me laugh, rude child, though I can’t say the same for that boy. You have my permission to use my oasis. Just remind the next one of your kind not to intrude, or else I will not reserve them the right to my mercy. Farewell.”**

“Wait, stop! You didn’t answer me yet!” Suro calls out.

This time, the serpent continues its retreat. Seconds later, the spirit is gone, leaving Suro standing in confusion and fear. Suro had heard of the Avatar some time in the past, but only knows of the Avatar’s ability to master all of the elements. Was the spirit mistaken? It couldn’t have been. Suro did suddenly learn how to use two new elements. But how could this have happened? How had he never found out his abilities before?

These thoughts swim around in his mind as Brott approaches him. Suro snaps out of his initial shock by Brott’s heavy hand being placed on his shoulder. As Suro turns around, Brott retracts his arm. Suro sees Brott and his outcasts kneeling down at his feet.

“We are indebted to serve the Avatar, being loyal to the cause of the White Lotus.” Brott says.

“Wait a second! How can you be so sure that I am the Avatar? How can we trust the spirit that just tried to kill us?” Suro frantically speaks out and stumbles backwards. His left foot steps into the water of the oasis, wetting his leg up to the ankle.

Suro shudders slightly at this, and then is struck by the realization. That woman... she must have been another Avatar. That’s the only explanation for how she was able to give him the ability to firebend; he needs to speak to her and find out what he needs to do.

The gears click into place within Suro’s head, and he suddenly feels the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Suro is…

Suro is the Avatar.

Suro starts to question himself, yet the men remain in place at his feet, bowed down. He moves away from the edge of the pool of water and past the bowing men.

It seems that time has stood still.

Suro once again feels the urge to meditate and clear his mind. He seats himself near the base of the rock formation and leans back against it.

* * *

 

With his mind clearing rapidly, Suro once more enters his spiritual body and feels the familiar abyss surround him. This time however, a dark blue sky encompasses his being.

A large crowd of people emerges in front of him. They quietly stand side by side, their faces and clothing a colorless grey. Each of them is clad in different attire and Suro recognizes a pattern among them despite their appearances seemingly obscured by a fuzzy grey blob. Every few of them share a similar outfit.

The most striking feature emerges to Suro as their eyes start to glow.

At the front of the line, the woman he met in that previous vision steps forward. Unlike the people who were behind her, she is colorfully dressed in the same bright garments that Suro last saw her in. As she approaches him, he feels energy permeate throughout his form. Her eyes return to their normal blue color, and simultaneously, the rest of the crowd’s eyes return to normal as well.

The people behind her fade away quickly, disappearing into the background night sky, each of them becoming a star. However, the lady does not seem to notice.

She smiles at Suro and speaks up.

“Hi. I’m Korra.”


	3. Transitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to move out!

* * *

**TRANSITIONS**

* * *

 

Suro’s first reaction is to question the woman about who those strange people were, but he feels that he needs to introduce himself and find the answer to his most imminent question- who is she?

“My name is Suro. Pleased to- spiritually make your acquaintance.”

She nods at his reply and chuckles briefly. “So, you figured it out. I didn’t want to spoil it for you, but there ya go, you’re the next Avatar. It feels weird to be kind of alive-but-not. Not too different from being in the spirit world though. Usually there’d be people to talk to, but that’s kinda my fault in the first place."

“That means that you’re the Avatar before me, right?”

“Yep, that’s how I kickstarted your knowledge of firebending. I have to say, guiding a new Avatar all by myself will be quite the task since I can’t rely on any of the others to help out. Sorry if I kinda avoid the cryptic nature of the Avatar collective and just push you to meditate.” Korra answers swiftly, as if having practiced this speech beforehand.

“I would like to thank you very much for your gift; It helped me greatly.”

“Yep- that’s what I do. Helping others was kinda my job, and I guess it’s gonna be yours too now.”

“So, Korra, um- where do I start with this ‘master of all the elements’ process? Who were those people behind you, and why can I barely see them?.”

Suro’s second question makes Korra raise her eyebrows, then smile once more. “Those must be the previous Avatars! At least you can still see them like I could before they were sealed away. There should be a way to bring them back if they’re still there. Oh- and about that ‘master of the elements’ spiel, just relax.

The order of the elements for me was water, earth, fire, and then air. So for you it should go something like earth, fire, air, then water. You get it? I should say something really wise and Avatar-y, shouldn’t I? I guess what I can say is that ‘fate will guide your destiny to the future, young one’. You’ll find your way.”

She speaks excitedly, and emphasizes the part about fate, feigning an old man’s voice overlaid in place of her womanly speech. Something feels grimly serious about this, but Suro can’t help chuckling at Korra’s humor.

Suro jumps at the opportunity to ask another question.

“Why did they get sealed away?”

“I... I messed up a long time ago. I nearly severed my connection with the Avatar spirit during a battle, and afterwards I couldn’t sense any of the past Avatars. We thought that every previous Avatar’s spirit was lost, but your vision could mean that they aren’t gone.” Korra sighs, “Sorry to cut this thing short, but talking for this long is exhausting. I’m being pulled back to the spirits. At least now I know why all the Avatars like to work together. Anyway, I’ll try to talk to you again soon. Take care, Avatar Suro.”

The woman begins fading away as Suro bows goodbye. Her ethereal form dispels, leaving him staring at the starry sky. Her words give him hope that he can do something right.

One of his duties as the Avatar is service to the Spirit World. But what else awaits him now that he has taken on the mantle of Avatar?

* * *

 

Suro lets the sky fade around him and returns to his body. Wind blows across Suro’s face, as the Lotus outcasts stand around him.

Suro reaches his good arm out to one of them, and is helped up to his feet. Brott looks into Suro’s eyes and Suro returns the glance with a determined expression on his face and nods.

The Avatar... Maybe Suro can redeem himself after all.

“So who’s our first target?” Suro eagerly inquires, having seated himself among the Lotus outcasts, joining the semicircle.

“Well, it’s more like targets, but our first destination is the one where the majority of those targets have flocked. We must go to Republic City. Not only can we catch some of the criminals there, but we can check through government files and see who it is exactly we’re up against. Although the names of the more infamous escapees might be well-known, in order to capture everyone dangerous we should make a list.” Brott answers.

“Sounds appropriate.” Suro replies.

“We will set out on our rock sleigh once the sun starts to go down. No use burning up for no good reason. Meanwhile, I think we can tell you a bit about the past Avatars so you can understand what is expected of you and the scope of the things you will be dealing with.

Due to a very long war prior to the return of Avatar Aang, most records of any previous Avatars were destroyed, so the only way you can learn about them is by connecting spiritually with them. This is called the Avatar state. When you enter the Avatar state during a time of need, you are possessed by the wills of the Avatars before you, their skills and experiences guiding your actions within your realm of moral possibility.

However, if you learn to access the state willingly, the potential for you to reach out and harness the wisdom of the spirits and Avatars before you goes beyond a simple defense mechanism. As you truly realize into the bridge between the physical world and the spirit world, you will be able to channel your past lives at will.”

“So who are the past Avatars?” Suro asks.

“What we do know comes from the life of the previous Avatar and the detailed accounts of her exploits.” Brott continues, “Once an Avatar passes away, the next one takes their place following the elemental cycle of Fire, Air, Water, and Earth. This has been so for over ten thousand years.

To sum up the brief history of the most recent Avatars, Avatar Aang founded Republic City nearly two-hundred years ago and ended the Hundred Year War between the Fire Nation and the other nations. The next Avatar, Korra, opened the worlds of the spirits and humans to intertwine during the reemergence of Vaatu, a powerful dark spirit opposite the one which is tied to the Avatar. You must have felt the Avatar spirit inside of you when you meditated.”

“Yes, I felt some kind of energy, but the form that came to me in my vision was Avatar Korra, and only her. I saw the Avatars before her, but neither I nor Korra could reach them.” Suro responds.

“Hmm. I assume that you know what happened, then?”

“Korra was somehow cut off from them. She didn’t say how, but I assume it has something to do with that spirit you mentioned.”

“You guessed well. Yes, Vaatu temporarily separated Korra from the Avatar spirit Raava. Raava can never be truly separated from the Avatar, and so a small part of Raava remained within Korra, and was reseeded within your spirit.”

“Can I help the Avatar spirit regenerate?”

“The battle was intense, and although the immediate result was obvious during the span of Avatar Korra’s lifespan, the White Lotus does not know how future Avatars could be affected by this. But we do have the hope that you might be able to somehow reestablish the original connection that Vaatu made more than ten thousand years ago. It is unknown how the Avatar can do so. Just know that we have faith in you.”

Brott and the other White Lotus members stand up. “It’s time for us to continue our journey. The sun’s starting to set.”

* * *

 

Despite the tiring travel, Suro has not been idle. The White Lotus outcasts were gracious enough to give him the time to meditate while they transported out of the desert. The group did not stop frequently. The only times they did were to stop and gather food and water from plant life or to coordinate a bathroom break.

Their first stop upon reaching the end of the desert was at a small village near the outskirts of the desert. A break from the endless horizon of sand, the treeline and dry plains were a pleasant surprise. By cover of nightfall, the group approached the village.

Although they were determined to behave, the group of convicts knew that they couldn’t just waltz in with ragged prison wear. They needed to find some clothes and transportation. As dedicated and willful the earthbending power of the outcasts is, it won’t get the group to Republic City. Their water supply, contained in pouches made from rags, had run out. Dehydrated, the group leapt at a lake nearby the town. Once they had had their fill of drinking and bathing, they looked upon a large, well-decorated home looming across the lake.

* * *

 

“We can’t do that!” Suro pipes up.

“We’re broke and in con getup, and we can’t keep going by rock. I know it pains you, Suro, we understand. But we need new clothes and a faster method of travel for getting ourselves to Republic City.” Brott replies.

Suro can’t argue with Brott’s logic. He reluctantly nods his head..

The group of men leaves their clothes behind. They sneak around the bushes surrounding the edge of the lake, drawing closer. Their slinking forms are hidden among the shadows as they draw near. The warm yellow light of the house dances onto their bodies in between stretches of greenery. The house is ornately decorated, with a curved, multi-level roof and large, shaded windows. Some of the upper-floor windows are brightly lit, indicating the presence of occupants. Music emanates out from windows on the top floor along with the smell of luxurious roasted meats and desserts.

Suro and the outcasts salivate at the scent of the succulent aromas. They haven’t eaten much other than wasp-buzzard meat. They press their bodies to a white wall near a protruding section of the house. Helping each other over the walls, the group sneaks into the compound of the house. To their left is the main home building, while to their right is a small shed.

Ahead of them along a small paved driveway lies a metal gate. A medium-sized green truck is waiting up ahead. A clothesline hangs out of the second-floor window, connecting to a lamppost which illuminates the middle of the property. Suro and the outcasts whisper among one another, and come up with their plan.

“Fihr, Lei, and Seok, you’re in charge of the truck. I’ll go with Suro to take the clothes.” Brott commands.

Each of the group’s members nod in agreement, then go off to perform their assigned task.

Brott and Suro sneak as close to the walls of the main house as possible to avoid the light in the center of the courtyard, and reach a spot underneath the laundry line.

“Suro, I know you have trouble firebending, but it’s the only type of bending that could break the clothesline quietly.”

Suro nods. He doesn’t feel completely ready to firebend again, but he tries focusing his energy and folds his fingers. All he needs is a small flame to cut through the wire. If he can even manage to summon as much as that...

He thrusts his right arm upwards and releases a small, fast-travelling ball of flames. It sails right past the clothesline.

Damn, he missed.

Again. Suro must focus. This isn’t just about being able to do the bare minimum. Right, he has to hit the target too. This is much harder than he thought it would be.

Okay. Once more.

Suro focuses his energy to his fingertips, but much quicker this time. He doesn’t need a big flame, just an accurate one. He shoots again, this time hitting the clothesline and severing one end, then spins around and shoots one more tiny fireball to sever the knot on the lamppost across the compound.

Brott sighs in relief, and pats Suro on the back. The men rush to catch the falling clothesline and gather it whole. A truck engine sputters up behind them.

Suro and Brott clamber into the back along with one of Brott’s fellow Lotus outcasts, who had just returned from opening the gate. The light of the compound shines off of the dark forest green of the truck as it slowly crawls out of the driveway and turns left onto the road to head into the center of town.

Once Suro and the outcasts had cleared the town by as far as they deemed safe, they pulled over by the roadside to change into their new clothes. Suro, being the Avatar and the youngest in the group, was given first pick. Not one for fashion, he chose a small pair of blue jeans and a black shirt.

The rest of the group chose various outfits, mostly of a fashionable, rich-society style. Bright, vibrant shirts with patterned pants and logos emblazoned on various parts of their clothing They were ready to continue on to Republic City.

Although there was a lot of ground to cover, the highway to Republic City guided them to their destination. After only about a day of driving, Suro’s group reached the first checkpoint to enter The Republic. They would have to forge identifications in order to enter The Republic, and so, they stopped at a small border town.           

This time, Suro would have to go out into the shiftier part of town and acquire some identification cards for the group. He was given wad of money and a handful of coins that Seok found hidden in the dashboard compartment of the truck. Saying their temporary goodbyes, Suro sets off to face one of the final trials before his real mission can begin. And this one’s an easy one. All he has to do is ask some shifty guy in a back alley for some ID’s… right?

Suro’s never done something like this before, and now that he thinks about, he should have just let Brott go instead of offering himself because he felt like it was his ‘Avatar duty’. Well, if he’s made it this far, Suro can walk the last few baby steps.

Suro strides off towards the town, past a sign saying: _“Welcome to Sou-kai!”_ The coins and bills in his pocket jingle as he walks toward a busy avenue. Bright lights shine as Satomobiles whirr by him and crowds of people walk around on the street. Suro remembers he doesn’t have any shoes as his soles begin to wear on the road.

So much for painless baby steps; this concrete hurts something fierce.


	4. Border Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suro must find a way to help himself and the others pass through Earth Empire borders.

* * *

**BORDER BLUES**

* * *

 

Ow. 

He should really invest in some shoes. The leather rags from the prison fell off by themselves within a few days of escaping. Suro thinks it somewhat symbolic of the change in his lifestyle, but oh does he wish for symbolism to spare him the soreness. Still, he needs to soldier on. 

It seems kind of strange to have pockets full of money, yet be poorer than ever. He knows it’s just part of the job until he starts getting somewhere. The gravel on the side of the road transitions to a hard asphalt and up ahead, a sidewalk sits seemingly extruded out of the ground boldly. It marks the town limits even more so than the already present change in atmosphere. 

Suro does a quick hop onto the pavement, and continues on. The more he observes the people on the street nearby him, the more he is struck by a sense of paranoia. Although the wilderness on either side does not bother him, the swarms of people passing by ignite a spark of claustrophobia even more deeply ingrained than the prison ever could. 

Suro is now only a few steps away from the passersby. He hopes they will ignore him and leave him be. The last thing he wants is to be taunted for his ragged appearance. For all he knows, however, he might be dressed in the newest fashion judging on how these strangers are clothed. 

They wear the same jeans as Suro, topped with colorful shirts and various sporty shoes. 

Maybe he’ll fit in with the crowd better than he thinks. 

He merges into the flow of the street and makes a left turn around a corner. Before him, stretching several blocks, lay the shining and vibrant shopping center of the town. Stores all around him have vivid displays from dresses to timepieces to pet turtleducks. Running down the middle of the rather wide road to his right is a small row of trees. Satomobiles and trucks rumble past, emitting loud beeps and honks whenever pedestrians try to cross the street. 

Suro feels a shove from behind.

“Watch it, chump!” an angry voice calls out as Suro stumbles forward, the coins jingling gently in his pocket. 

A muscular man in an overcoat with cut-off sleeves pushes around Suro and walks away through the crowd. Unfazed, Suro just accepts this physical affront as simply an accident and walks on. 

So, Brott said to get some passports. Where would the shiftier part of town be?

He bets that there’d be an older, more rundown area where someone who could forge IDs might reside. A group of girls around Suro’s age walk to the left of him. Suro quickly glances at their multicolored getup, with shirts matching overly dyed hair. They notice his glance and move further to the left, stopping. 

Suro passes them, but as he does, he hears giggles behind him. Maybe he needs a bath more than he thinks. Lake water, although not exactly dirty, doesn’t come with soap included. Of course, maybe they could have just thought of a joke and- no. 

Get real, man.    

From the right, someone taps Suro on the shoulder. 

“Hey man, sweet blues, how much did you pay for them?” 

A skinny man, dressed in the same outfit as Suro, asks. He has a scraggy, sparse beard, and overgrown hair. 

Suro’s first thinks that the man is mocking him, but soon it hits him; he  _ is _ indeed matching the popular attire by some strange coincidence. 

Suro quickly thinks of the only place he knows other than this town and the prison. “Uh... I don’t remember. I think in Republic City?” 

“Wicked, dude. I wish I could afford Zap’s.” 

He then walks on. What strange people; so expressive and interactive. If this is a small town, then Suro can’t comprehend the thought of Brott’s description of Republic City: 

_ ‘Swarms upon swarms of people. There are so many people that if you wanted to fill all of Yue Bay, you could do it and still have enough left over to gawk and complain about how many people there are. Hehehe.’  _

Though it seemed endless to Suro initially, the commercial district is thinning out. He glances over his shoulder to reaffirm that it’s still all there, and of course, it reveals its stretching sprawl once more. 

That wasn’t too bad. One bad experience, one... neutral-ish one, and one good one. 

Seems balanced enough. That all might change soon, however.

Suro feels his paranoia die down, a sense of comfort replacing it. He crosses the street, turning past the corner. The bricks of the buildings to his right are worn and chipped, and ahead of him is a short, but wide strait of beaten buildings. 

A large, desolate factory lies a short distance in front of him on his right. Between the building next to Suro and the factory is a small blacktop lot. To the left, closed shops and homes are stuck, wall-to-wall, sharing their miserable dilapidation.

Suro starts passing by the lot. 

“Hey!” 

Turning his head towards the voice, Suro sees a large group of men armed with pipes and small blades, led by the guy who shoved him earlier. 

Suro freezes up, his heart beating fast. Their leader comes up face-to-face with Suro. Thoughts start running through Suro’s head; the only way he can beat them is by bending, and maybe then he’ll manage to get away. 

What do they want from him, though? The money? 

Probably the money.

“Give us your cash, and you walk away without a broken bone.” 

Yep. 

Suro glances to his sides, noting only the empty lot extending to the street corner building and the factory to his left. He jumps back and swings his arms upwards, trying to pull the sidewalk up. Instead of a stone wall, only a few rectangular sections erupt out of the sidewalk, tripping a few of the thugs. 

Okay. Uh... 

Suro starts backing up even faster as they follow him. The few thugs that he tripped start to encircle him.

Suro pulls back his fingers on both hands, forgetting the injured state of his bound left arm. The pain makes him stumble and fall to the ground. In the process of falling, however, small flames shoot out from his right hand. 

As he hits the asphalt, all of the coins and bills in his pocket loosen and spill out into a drain grate in the side of the road. The thugs are nearly on him now. 

Suro’s heart is beating as fast as it can. Focus evades him, and he starts scrambling backwards, only to be grabbed by the shoulders by one of the thugs behind him.

“Rich boy has expensive clothes and pockets full of cash. Looks like mommy and daddy got him some Minivar pills too.” 

The thug then turns to the others, “You boys ready to have a field day? Remember what happens to pipsqueaks who try to fight back: we give their parents a run for their money in hospital bills!” 

The group closes in. Suro shuts his eyes, expecting the worst.

“You’re right. Someone’s going to the hospital, but it’s not gonna be him.” 

They all look up towards the roof of the factory, seeing the slender figure two stories above them. The person leaps down, raising their arms behind them to send the wall of the factory peeling below their feet. Though obscured in between the legs of the thugs, Suro can see it is a young woman holding a short baton in her left hand. 

The thugs laugh. Their leader speaks up, pointing his thumb towards the other direction. 

“Gym’s that way, sweetie.”

“You guys look like you need a membership more than I do,” she responds.

“You’ve got guts saying that with a plastic baton.”

The girl goes into a combat stance, her right arm hovering over her baton. “This plastic’s a lot harder than you think.”

The leader grins. “Double the spoiled brats, double the brat’s spoils!”

The thugs start running at the girl. As soon as they near her, she launches herself off of the ground with a pillar of stone and waves her arm in a circular motion over her baton. Flicking a switch, a large, circular blade quickly follows her hand’s motion out from her weapon. 

She lands on a short concrete pedestal which she pulls out from the asphalt in front of Suro. The thugs start charging at her again. The young woman flicks another switch and swings her arm to the left, whipping a long length of metal wire out to the side. She propels herself upward and over the charging thugs, bending the wire to trip the whole group at ankle level. 

The falling men panic and shout as they try to escape the grip of her metal lasso. She lands on the wall which she had previously created as she jumped down from the roof of the factory. Suro’s savior then leaps off the platform, and stomps down onto the street’s pavement, sending a shockwave through the street. It throws the tied-up thugs a good distance upwards with a launching column that shoots out of the ground. 

She pulls her arm back to her side, retracting the metal wire, causing the men to spin in the air as they go up. They land hard, grunting as they fall either around the pavement or on a stone column. 

Suro stares, wide-eyed and speechless at the earthbender.

“Th-thanks!” Suro sputters.

She walks up to Suro, standing over him. “If you didn’t look so scared right now, I would’ve thought you were walking through this part of town to get mugged  _ on purpose _ .” 

As she approaches him, Suro takes note of her physical features. She is of medium height and moderate build, with long, straight black hair. The flickering street lamps around Suro reflect in her fiery orange eyes. She has a small, sharp nose set upon thin red lips, and an oval chin. Her skin is pale, resembling a fair peach tone. She is dressed in a dark silver jacket and black sweatpants. By her appearance, it seems like she was just out for a run and happened to save Suro by being in the right place at the right time. 

She folds the baton into a small cylinder no longer than her palm and clips it magnetically to her waist.

“So, you okay there...uh?” 

“Suro.”

“Suro. Need some help?” 

She glances at Suro’s left arm. Suro looks and sees that the bindings have worn out and started to unravel, showing the damaged, pale flesh beneath the cloth. The sudden sight of his wound brings back the pain. 

Suro shakes his head to rid the thought, saying nothing.

“I’m gonna assume that’s a yes. Let me help you up.” 

Suro reaches his good arm out, and she grabs it, pulling him to his feet with the assistance of a small rock shove to the back.

“The name’s Araji Mithra, by the way. Do you live around here?” she asks with a smile.

“No.”

“I figured that. You look a bit soft to be a city boy. You from the frontier or something?”

“I... don’t exactly have a home. My entire living arrangement changed recently.” Suro says, a hint of wistful nostalgia leaking into his tone.

Araji initially pauses. She then says, “... Well don’t feel down. You know what, I’ll patch you up at my place! Might even let my parents let you stay in a guest room. You  _ do _ seem to have that whole ‘moose-doe eyes’ thing going for you.”

“Are you sure your parents would let a random homeless stranger into their house?”

“Ehh... I’ll just tell them that you’re a friend who was in an accident. They don’t know many of my actual friends after all. Just act... not homeless and it should be fine.” 

Suro bends over to pick up the various money bills that couldn’t fit through the grate. The sudden realization that some of his money is gone hits him, but Suro doesn’t have the energy to call out for Araji to stop so he can look for it. He hangs his head in defeat as he limps around the street corner with Araji taking the lead. 

* * *

 

Approaching Araji’s home, Suro notes that it’s a rather nice house. Whilst not heavily decorated, it is permeated by a pea green paint over silver windowsills and features. 

Araji walks steadily in front of Suro. Their little procession is more of a saunter than a direct approach. Turning left to walk up the small steps to the door, Araji takes out her keys and opens the door. Suro only sees a dark entranceway when he peers inside.    
  
“Wipe your shoes on the mat, Sur-” She says, but pauses as she glances at Suro’s bare feet. 

“I guess you don’t have shoes. Are you really homeless? You have pretty expensive clothes for a bum.”

Suro doesn’t know what to say. While he  _ is _ homeless, he should probably say something to assure her he isn’t some dangerous vagrant anyway.

“Refugee, actually.”

“From one of the Earth Empire states?”

“Yeah.”

“How far away did you come from?”

She seems to be on to him. Or just naturally curious. Suro guesses the desert is the best answer as it’s essentially the truth.

“The far side of the desert.”

“ _ There?! _ How did you manage to escape the Coalition patrols?!”

Suro thinks about how the guards in the prison used to ploddingly clang along as they patrolled the cell block. He frowns and bites his lip, casting his eyes downward.

“...”

Araji registers Suro’s avoidance of her question and cranes her neck uncomfortably at Suro’s silence.

“Okay... well you hungry?”

Suro sighs and then nods. Araji walks into the entryway and turns on the light. She bends down and pulls a pair of slippers out of a drawer.

“Take these,” she says and slides them over to the entranceway.

Suro steps into the house and into the slippers in one motion. He lets the door swing shut gently behind him. The inside of the house smells pleasant, a faint floral fragrance hangs in the air. The floor is a clean orange hardwood, glazed and patterned with the natural forms of wood planks. The walls to Suro’s sides are a parchment yellow-white.

Araji takes off her jacket and places it into the closet above the drawer, revealing a grey t-shirt underneath. She moves into the hall of the house and turns right. Suro walks after her, noting a staircase upwards to his left and some kind of living room up ahead. The kitchen is small, with cupboards and various accessories taking up most of the space.

Araji reaches into a fridge and after rooting around for a few seconds, retrieves a small bun. She turns to Suro, tossing it at him. Suro narrowly raises his right hand and catches it before it falls.

“Want any drinks with that? We have water, and uh... mineral water.” She says, dodging her head in and out of the fridge.

Suro, unsure of the etiquette regarding eating here, decides to cram the bun hungrily into his mouth. Crumbs fall to the floor as he chews noisily and diligently. By the time Araji turns to see what is going on with him, the bun is no more, aside from a few crumbs on the kitchen tile.

Suro blushes as he swallows down the rest of the sweet bun.

“Mineral water, please.”

Araji shrugs, grabbing a small orange can out of the fridge and handing it to Suro. Suro fumbles with the can, rotating it and tapping his fingers against the various faces of it.

“Uhh...”

Araji starts laughing. “What, you’ve never seen a can before?”

“Uhh...”

“Okay, gimme it here. I’ll open it for you.”

Suro hands the strange container to her, and she pops a small tab on one of the smaller circular faces of the can, causing it to click once, then hiss for a few seconds. A small fizz rises out of a oval hole in the top of the can, then subsides soon after.

Araji hands the can back to Suro. “Just don’t spill it and you should be fine.”  

With the can in his hands once more, Suro knows what to do from here. He opens his mouth as wide as possible and tries to seal his lips around the rim of the can. Then, Suro tilts his head back and begins rapidly taking huge gulps. The fizz quickly begins to burn his throat.

Suro starts groaning in discomfort, yet keeps gulping down the liquid. This isn’t what he pictured mineral water being like at all. Water shouldn’t make his throat burn. What is this?

Suro struggles through the rest of the can and after finishing it, throws his head back and starts breathing heavily. Araji had been staring at him the entire time in amusement. She giggles, then grabs a can for herself.

“Here, look.”

Araji pops the tab and then proceeds to sip slowly from the hole in the can. Suro glances at her from the side of his vision as he makes a few guttural burps and groans.

Araji laughs, then her can releases a small hissing spray of mineral water right into her face. Suro quickly returns his head to a resting position and wipes his mouth. “Sorry, sorry.”

Still reeling from the spray of the can, Araji stands on her tiptoes, tensed up. Water runs down her face and drips from her chin. Her expression has changed from laughing to being in temporary shock. After a few seconds of silence, she hurriedly runs over to the kitchen sink and grabs a roll of paper towels. She tears off a few pieces and wipes herself down, then proceeds to quickly scrub the floor.

“Just head upstairs. I’ll meet you up there once I’m done cleaning up this mess.”

Suro heads up the staircase and makes it to the top, finding himself once more in a small hallway. Not knowing where to go, he leans against the wall on the opposite side from the top of the stairs. Strange how he’s in a warm house with a pretty girl when only a few minutes ago he was out in the streets.

Suro sees it as a happy coincidence that Araji was there to save him. Losing most of Brott’s money might not go over very well; Suro can imagine all the flavors of disappointed looks that Brott would give him. Speaking of Brott, he’s still waiting for Suro to get back with some ID cards. Could Araji possibly help him out?

No, that’s stupid. She’s strictly against crime, which is probably the reason why Suro’s not lying in a gutter right now. But would it really be a bad idea to ask?

He decides he won’t pursue the issue unless it comes up in conversation.

Despite Suro’s desire to focus onto the task assigned to him, he thinks about Araji. Suro blushes. He shouldn’t fall for the first girl he sees. Still, this is the first time Suro can remember being alone around a girl, even if it is a heroine rescues the guy-damsel-in-distress situation.

Suro sighs. Footsteps echo below him, and it isn’t long before Araji’s face appears over the threshold of the staircase.

“Hi again,” she says, waving.

She reaches the top of the stairs. Standing on even ground, Suro notices that he is taller than her by a head.

“This way,” she says and motions her arms to her right.

Araji walks past Suro’s left side and slides open a door, entering the room. A light switch clicks right afterwards. Suro follows her in. The first thing Suro sees is a bed. Suro feels butterflies in his stomach.

Is this... her bedroom?

Shut up, thoughts. This chick just saved you. That’s that, okay?

Araji points to a chair positioned across from a desk in the corner of the room. Suro sits down.

“I got some new bandages while I was down there. Let me check your arm.”

Suro just notices the small white box she is holding under her arm. Araji shuts the sliding door, and pulls a chair under her with her foot. She grabs it with her free hand and moves it to rest directly across from Suro.

Araji sits down and rests the box on her folded legs.

“Your arm.” she says, and opens up her left palm, moving it towards Suro.

Suro places his left forearm into her hand. “My arms are in your hands.”

Araji grins, then grabs the hand-end of the cloth wrapping and starts to unwind it. She leans forward, her long hair brushing Suro’s knee as she works at the wrap. Tenderly unwinding it, she moves her right hand in a fluid circular motion. A natural flowery fragrance exudes from her, defying the fact that she just fought about ten people and won.

Araji’s eyes are focused on Suro’s arm. They reflect the light of the room around her, marking them as strikingly more orange than before.

Araji clenches her teeth in sympathy, sucking in dry air. “Ooh…”

Suro looks at his injured arm, bare of any bindings. As morbid as it sounds, it looks just like some dried meat that Suro saw in a store display. The skin is just as pale-blue and shriveled as before, the joints and bones bulging underneath. The blighted flesh goes up to his elbow, taking away any functionality of moving his left arm with all but his shoulder.

“You want me to disinfect it? It’d only fizzle a bit, like mineral water.”

“No, that’s fine, thank you.” Suro says, fearing the burning feeling.

“Are you sure?”

“Okay.” Suro utters quietly.

Araji retrieves a small bottle from the box and a large cloth. She opens the small cap and places the cloth over the mouth of the bottle. She flips it upside down, then once more quickly so it is right-side up, keeping the cloth pressed over the mouth tightly.

Araji places the partially soaked cloth onto her leg and seals the bottle, placing it back in the white box. She picks up the cloth again and starts moving it towards Suro’s arm. Seeing Suro quiet down, she hesitates, then presses the sanitized part of the cloth gently to Suro’s skin. He takes on the burning pain, gritting his teeth.

It’s just disinfectant, don’t be a wimp.

Araji gingerly swabs Suro’s arm. The cloth trails white foam on his arm and gives him a bubbling sensation. After the initial burning stops, he only feels his skin tingling.

Guess the disinfectant is working its magic.

Araji goes over all sides of Suro’s arm once, then repeats the whole process one more time diligently. After she finishes, she waits for the foam to die down. The tingling stops as Araji carefully wipes Suro’s arm dry with the other end of the cloth. She then folds the cloth, puts in inside of the box, and looks up at Suro.

“So, umm... how did this happen?” Araji asks.

Suro, recognizing her cautious tone, tries to think of something to say.

“An accident. It’s a recent injury, though. I’m sure it looks a lot worse than it actually is.”

Her face returns to a resting gaze as she roots around in the box on her lap.

“So, where are you headed to in the Republic?”

“Republic City.”

“Well, I figured. Pretty much everyone heads there,” Araji makes a light-hearted grin. “That was kinda a dumb question... sorry.”

Araji withdraws a fresh new roll of bandages from the box and rips the seal off. She lifts Suro’s arm upwards a bit as she starts winding the white wrapping around his injured arm. The bandage stings a bit when it first contacts Suro’s skin. Araji’s gentle procedure doesn’t press harder than it needs to, however, sparing Suro from most of the pain.  

Suro closes his eyes and sits quietly, breathing in the clean air and the fragrance that Araji gives off. He lets the feeling of soft gauze caressing his arm wrap around his mind. This feels better than a ragged, dirty cloth by a longshot.     

Araji finishes wrapping Suro’s arm, tears the remaining gauze off, and replaces the roll into the white box. She looks into Suro’s eyes.

“Well, you’re all set-”

Knocks and clicks come from downstairs. Araji perks her head up instinctively and turns around, dropping the box to the floor. She looks back toward Suro with frantic eyes.

“My parents are home! Quick, hide somewhere! If you get caught though, just remember, you’re my friend from… uh, somewhere!”

“Huh? Where?”

Araji jumps out of her seat and rips open the closet door, pointing inside and whispering:

“There! There!”

Suro rushes into the closet blindly and smacks into the back wall. The closet door slides closed behind him as he recoils from the sudden impact. Surrounded by darkness, Suro struggles to prop himself up. He bumps against various boxes and edges until finally his vision focuses enough so that he can partially see. A few dresses hang above him, brushing his hair.

Suro hears conversation going on downstairs through the closet door. Nothing too solid comes through, so he gives up trying to listen and curls up behind a large box. A few seconds of squirming give him the most comfortable position he can scrounge up and he tries to relax.

Against his better judgement, Suro feels that he should tell her parents the truth about where he is from… Not the full truth, obviously. The other truth; the one that he told to Araji.

And he’ll do just that… assuming Araji’s plan fails. Suro trusts Araji, but he wouldn’t want to put her in a bad situation.

Suro hears footsteps coming up the stairs alongside rapid-fire conversation. The footsteps get closer and closer to Araji’s room.

The talking and footsteps are now at the door of the room. Suro can make out a few words:

“I… already… room… clean…” 

The door of the room slides open. Araji and her parents walk in. Suro tries to prop his head up, and slips. At the last second, Suro tries grabbing onto a dress, and catches himself briefly. He hangs there, his weight making the hanger bar creak loudly. Once he feels secure, Suro quietly sighs.

“Araji, please, you have to understand. The Republic City Police Academy has very strict admissions, and you have to be there perfectly on time for the first day.” A deep voice says. Must be her father.

“But come on, do I really have to keep saying that I already packed? Look, my room is completely empty.”

“If I check in the closet, will there be a bunch of boxes and clothes stuffed into every corner?”

“No... Why would you think that?” Araji asks, sounding nervous.

“Well, Araji, you aren’t giving me much choice. If you don’t want to tell the truth, we’ll just have to see. You are too old to go into time-out, and you know we never usually punish you otherwise. What is there to gain by holding the trip off?”

Footsteps approach the closet door, and in a panic, Suro jumps. 

Araji stands there, her arms crossed. Her father is walking towards the closet door when suddenly Suro busts out of the closet and sprawls out onto the floor of Araji’s room, taking half of the inner contents of the closet with him. Several crumpled dresses cover Suro like erant streaks of paint from a brush.

“I swear it’s not what it looks like!” Araji yelps out, her face flushed.

* * *

 

Suro sits at the dining table in Araji’s living room. Next to him is Araji, trying her best to avoid her parents’ gazes. 

Araji’s parents sit across from them. Her father is dressed in a white and gray robe with a tie. He has a full ring of hair, grey and thinning. On his shoulders rest a pair of stethoscopes.

“So, you are Araji’s friend correct?” her father asks.

Suro nods slowly.

“I am Oji, and this is my wife, Aura. What would be your name?”

“Suro, sir.”

“Now I won’t ask why you were hiding in her closet when we came home. Araji’s an old enough girl to be able to make her own choices, no matter how-  _ avant garde  _ they might be.” Oji says, glancing at Suro’s dirty, yet hip clothing.

“Dad, please, he was in an accident. I had to help him out.”

“What kind of accident, dear?”

“Uh, Suro, it’s better that you tell them yourself.” Araji nudges Suro under the table.

“Sir, you know what? I’m going to have to tell you the truth-”

“What are you talking about? You must still be delirious from the… uh, accident!” Araji jumps in and puts her hands over Suro’s mouth.

“Araji.” Oji says sternly. “Let him speak. I want to hear what he has to say.”

Suro clears his throat. “Well, Araji doesn’t exactly know me all that well. I  _ was _ in an accident, but Araji wasn’t there. I’m kind of a refugee... from the desert. Araji saw me laying in the street after I was mugged by a group of thugs and she decided to help me out. Sorry for hiding in your closet and scaring you. Your daughter is a perfectly nice young woman, and if you want to blame anyone for her not getting to clean her room, you can blame me becau-”

“Enough. I can tell at least part of your story is true. That last half of whatever you were saying though, is all false.”

“Uhh… What?”

“Do you know what  _ Truthseers  _ are? They can feel your heartbeat and breathing through the vibrations in the floor, and unfortunately for you, I happen to be one myself. It helps me with my diagnoses, and also when Araji tries to get out of work.” 

Oji points at his wounded limb. “Would you care to tell me what happened to your arm?”

“Sorry, but I... don’t want to talk about the accident.”

“I see. Anyone who came from the desert must have their reasons to keep quiet. My understanding would be the smallest recompense I could give you.”

All these references to the desert itch at Suro’s mind. Something reminds him of his sealed memory as nausea flows into the pit of his stomach and weighs down his chest. Suro bows politely in gratitude as Oji speaks up.

“Actually, I may be able to offer you something other than sympathy. I assume you didn’t come to this border town for the nightlife. You want to immigrate to Republic City, correct?”

“Yes, sir. But it isn’t only me. I escaped with a group.”

“I don’t know about a group refugee passport, but I can redirect you to a local Republic Immigration Authority office. Although this town is technically on Earth Empire territory, the Republic owns it, so they should be able to help.”

Suro felt his chest expand. “Thank you so much, sir.”

“If you’d like, I can take you there tomorrow before we drive Araji to Republic City.”

“Thank you, but I can’t possibly ask that much from you.”

“Nonsense. If Araji wants to take in a refugee, this family will do the job justice.”

“I need to get back to my group. They would be worried if I was gone. Just the address would be fine, please.”

“Have it your way, Mister Suro.” Oji pulls a small pad and a pen from an inside pocket of his robe. He scribbles down the address on the paper and tears off the small sheet, handing it to Suro.

“Would you at least stay for dinner if I offered?”

Suro smiles. “I must accept.”

* * *

 

Suro approaches the outer limits of the town and sees the truck, parked on the side of the road. Thankfully, Oji let him keep the slippers. 

The dinner was good, and although he didn’t want to say goodbye to the welcoming family, he made warm amends and left. Suro feels the warm of the household with him as he walks back to his life as a refugee. He hopes Araji will remember him, as he will definitely remember her.

She was kind to Suro; he won’t forget that.

The door of the truck opens, and Brott steps out. He raises his arms in the air and calls out, “What took you so long, Suro?”

“I got lost for a bit, but don’t worry, I got us a way to get past the border.”

“That’s my boy!” Brott yells out and the two hug briefly, patting each other on the back.

People stir in the car, having been woken up by the noise. Brott’s childlike excitement is infectious, and Suro starts dancing around in circles with Brott. Suro yells at the top of his lungs while Brott cheers.

“ **WE’RE GOING TO REPUBLIC CITY!** ”


	5. City Limits (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suro and Brott's group continue their journey towards the city. Along the way, they crash into a familiar face...

* * *

**CITY LIMITS (PART I)**

* * *

 

It’s pretty much nighttime now.

Suro sits in the back of the truck, looking out the window. Brott and his group went into the building hours ago to get the refugee passports. A tinge of worry goes through Suro as he wonders if his new allies had been arrested.

Suro narrows his eyes in thought. How did they get caught then? If they were part of such a powerful organization, wouldn’t they be highly trained fighters? Still, no matter their skill, four runaways up against an entire organization wouldn’t stand a chance, and fighting to the end isn’t every man’s last resort.

Suro wonders whether or not giving up might be the best choice before a fight even breaks out.

He considers himself more thoughtful than active, with the taste of defeat still lingering in his mouth. Analyzing the environment didn’t help him get beat up any less, but rather, he was saved by his sheer luck that someone was there.

Suro gets a sour feeling somewhere in the back of his mind. Before he can think of something else, the doors of the building swing open, and Brott files out. He is carrying a few small booklets in his arms and his entourage soon follows. As soon as Brott finds himself entering the truck, he starts babbling.

“Can’t believe how boring it was in there! Bet you no one working at the desks wanted to be there either. And don’t get me started on the lines!”

Brott turns to Suro. “Suro! Did’ya know that makeup powder comes in portable kits these days? Well neither did I, until this fat woman started to choke out half of the line with her perfume. Literally a scented boulder, I tell you...”

Brott settles into the driver’s seat and slides down out of exhaustion. After calming down, he hands the small pile of booklets that he was clutching to Suro.

“Well Suro, we got the passports. We’re now all officially refugees of the Republic! You even get a nice, shiny little holographic sticker on the front since you’re a minor. Isn’t that neat?”

Suro sorts through the booklets, flipping each page. Each booklet only contains a sparse amount of biographical data and a serial number in heavy dark brown ink at the bottom. Next to the number, a small stamp with the refugee symbol resides. After flipping through two such booklets, he finds his, noticing the small holographic sticker with an earth symbol on it. A small text below the sticker reads: _“Upon attaining the age of 20, this citizen is to be redirected to the nearest immigration authority office to confirm identity and claim official immigration status.”_

Thanks Brott, but your kind nature doesn’t exactly translate well into you being an entertainer. He presented it like he was talking to a little kid.  

Sighing just quietly enough for Brott not to hear, Suro says, “Interesting,” and hands the passport booklets back to Brott. Brott smiles as he packs the stack into the dashboard. His eyes show a kind of awkward relief.

Brott turns the ignition and the rumbling engine starts up again. Suro leans back. Only a bit longer to go; they’re right at the border, so they should cross into Republic territory pretty soon.

The truck pulls out of the small lot next to the plain red-brick office building and merges into the road. The one story building soon fades out of rear window view.

There are a lot of trees around here. This place is so green, it almost hurts.

Suro is still amazed at how vast everything seems all around him. In between each tree, there are more trees of varying distances away, and between those, even more. The border town is long gone, lying farther back past the office.

Bored from staring at virtually the same trees over and over again, Suro turns back around and leans against the window. Turning his head, he sees Brott’s posse sleeping all over the place. The two in the seats next to him sleep leaning against each other, and the one in the seat next to Brott is also in dreamland somewhere.  

They went out like lights, huh? Brott himself seems to be a little sleepy. He isn’t moving much, even in spite of the fact that he is driving on a perfectly straight road. There’s nothing to do.

Suro, for the first time since his arrival to this new world, feels true boredom. He feels regret for not appreciating everything he has at the moment, but the novelty of freedom seems to dry out pretty quickly. The road behind seems endless, just like the relatively plain road ahead.

The night sky has fewer stars than when they were travelling the desert. The headlights of Satomobiles and the few and far between lamps seem to hold off the entirety of the night sky as they shine. The stars, scared off, retreat. Only the bravest shine through, becoming the brightest amongst the sparse clouds and the deep purple darkness.

Earlier, his worry seemed to soak up the time, but now that he is surrounded by those closest to him, he feels that the newness of everything around him is blunted. At the same time, however, he thinks that he is missing out on some kind of experience. Suro feels that his thoughts are of a plain, true nature, tied to his current feelings rather than his memory.

Suro wishes for a nice house like Araji’s one day, and maybe some clothes of his own that fit him. He wants to have his own possessions some day. It will be interesting to find out what having a private place to live will feel like. Although Brott is akin to family now, Suro would still like some privacy and solitude. Despite a couple brief dips in ponds, Suro feels that he has not had adequate opportunity to wash himself nor have his companions.

Sometimes close is just too close.

Things could be worse, though. Things could always be much worse. In fact, they were just a day ago, let alone several. Life is looking up.

“Guys, we’re nearly there.” Brott quietly says as the truck whizzes by a large green sign to the right.

“They’re all asleep.” Suro says with the same care as not to wake them.

“Oh, okay.”

Suro sees a somewhat-large structure looming in the distance, stretching across the road. The closer the truck gets to it, the more it reminds Suro of a defensive wall. Sparse light shines from the truck, barely illuminating the smooth, concrete sides. Approaching closer, Brott slows down and stops when he reaches a small booth in the center of the road. Pulling up beside the booth causes the metal grates covering the sides of the booth to roll up, revealing a man sitting behind a desk through the window.

The man is wearing a mostly grey coat, buttoned up to the neck. Atop his head is a grey circular uniform cap, with a red band around it. His hand is twiddling a pen around idly. He looks at Brott through the glass and motions in a circle for Brott to lower the window. Brott does so, and a voice comes in through a small circular speaker installed in the glass.

“Hand over your passports and prepare to be searched for contraband at the station ahead.”

Brott opens the dashboard and hands the man the stack cautiously. Scrunching up his brows for a moment, the man flips through the passports, licking his finger periodically to flip pages. Out from under his desk he withdraws a stamp and a small scanner. He runs it over the serial numbers of the passports and stamps each one as the scanner beeps repeatedly.

“Proceed up ahead,” he says, handing the passports back to Brott.

Brott slowly drives forward. Past the booth, the headlights only show the grey wall. Suddenly, the ground starts lowering and the truck starts moving downwards. Suro and Brott, being the only ones awake, look around to try to find out what is happening. The truck is lowered until it is in a well-lit chamber. Two guards, dressed in the same grey coats that the man in the booth had, approach the truck from either side. In front of the truck is a closed stable door.

Looking around, it is clear that the truck is now in some kind of subterranean checkpoint. The walls to either side are white with grey lines horizontally, stretching out forwards following a tunnel. This chamber and the tunnel leading out of it are lit by bright white lights. The men place their hands on the sides of the vehicle and lower their heads. Their faces are scrunched, seemingly focused on feeling the truck. Suro is reminded of Oji’s sixth sense back at Araji’s house.

After a few seconds, they nod and step away. The stable door in front of the truck swings open and Brott starts to drive through.

The tunnel stretches wide and far, having the capacity to fit maybe four or five lanes of trucks like Brott’s side by side. Behind the truck, the chamber seals itself off as the platform of road on which the truck was lowered is raised up with a thrust of the guard’s arms.

The tunnel’s walls and road look freshly painted and paved respectively. Despite the fresh look, the tunnel is occupied by the lone presence of the green truck rolling along the black and yellow-marked asphalt.

There isn’t much to see, so Suro attempts to sleep.  

* * *

 

 

Suro jolts awake as his body lunges forward, pressing him against his seat belt. Screeching tires and screaming male voices drown out Suro’s whimper as Suro comes to.

Brott is frantically gripping the steering wheel and swerving the car left and right. The view from the windows around Suro are a blur of green. Brott’s accomplices are sticking themselves halfway out the windows of the truck and swinging their arms, raising rock walls around the sides of the truck as Suro sees the green and brown extent descending steeply below them.

“BROTT WHAT’S HAPPENING?!” Suro yells, attempting to shout over the rumbling frame of the truck and the squeal of the brakes.  

“I NEARLY HIT A DEER-MULE AND WE CRASHED OFF OF THE SIDE OF THE ROAD! ARE YOU OKAY?” Brott replies at the same volume.

“YEAH, BUT WHERE DOES THIS MOUNTAIN END?!”

“SOMEWHERE AROUND 5,000 FEET DOWN FROM HERE!”

“WHAT?!”

“YEAH, I KNOW RIGHT?!"

Suro presses himself against the back of his seat and tucks his knees to his chest as tightly as possible. In front of the car, a large looming rectangular shape draws nearer through the thick fog and meager amount of dawnlight.  

“HANG ON SURO, WE’RE GOING TOO FAST!” Brott yells out.

The truck keeps racing down, narrowly swerving between trees and skidding past large rocks bent out of the way by Brott’s friends. The building emerges from behind the fog, standing many multitudes of stories tall. It stands at the edge of what appears to be a large spa deck. Small pools of water and mud come into view, with one in particular seemingly right in the crash course of the truck.

Suro is shaking and wide-eyed. He feels like he can’t move. Right as the truck is about to ramp off the mountainside into the mudpool up ahead, Suro is ripped from his seatbelt. He momentarily finds himself airborne somehow, his vision in a blur.

Brott holds Suro around the waist with one arm as he flips around in the air. Brott makes a fist with his free hand, rigidly pumps his arm to his side, and thrusts his arm upwards, summoning a large rock pillar from the deck below him.

He lands heavily onto the pillar, nearly dropping Suro from his grip as he receives the shock of impact. He rotates his arm so that his fist faces below and thrusts his arm downwards, lowering the pillar to the ground level of the concrete deck.

Brott puts Suro down and helps him to his feet. A large crowd of people dressed in bathing suits and sauna towels gathers around the crash site.

Brott’s friends jump off of their own pillars and walk over to the edge of the mudpool. The mud is draining fast and the truck has seemingly fallen right through the bottom of the pool. Crunching and smashing noises can be heard below the deck.

“Suro!” A familiar voice calls out from the crowd behind him.

Suro turns around and sees a similarly familiar face making its way through the crowd.

Araji!

* * *

 

 


	6. City Limits (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a desperate circumstance, Suro is pushed to the limits, revealing to Araji the truth about himself.

* * *

**CITY LIMITS (PART II)**

* * *

 

 

She steps out of the screaming crowd wearing a light green summer dress with a yellow floral pattern.

“Suro, what are you doing here?”

“What are _you_ doing here?”

“I stopped here with my parents for some relaxation before they dropped me off at Republic City. I meant, what are you doing here crashing a truck through a spa resort?”

Suro turns to Brott, “Brott, how about _you_ explain this.”

Brott crosses his arms, “Well how else was I supposed to avoid crashing into that deer-mule?!”

Araji shook her head. “So, how are you doing?”

“Fine. Other than what’s happening now, it’s literally been a day since I last saw you.”

“Right.”

An explosion rocks the deck from below.

“Suro, I don’t think this is the time for small talk.” Brott worriedly calls out.

“You don’t say,” Araji replies.

The deck rumbles again, throwing Suro and Araji off balance. Araji’s eyes widen. She whips around to face the crowd and commands.

“EVACUATE! NOW!”

At the very least, the crowd of resort-goers were already panicking from the crash and were halfway towards the hotel by the time Araji warned them. Brott and his friends follow the crowd.

“Stay calm! We are here to help you evacuate,” Brott calls after the crowd.

“I mean, you DID just crash your truck into the sauna!” Araji yells.

She sighs and turns back to Suro, “Suro, we need to clear the building. Follow me.”

Araji takes off running towards the Hotel and Suro follows suit. “You know how to earthbend Suro?”

“I think so!”

“What do you mean, you ‘think so?’”

“...Nevermind.”

“Whatever. Follow me into the lobby, we need to take the stairs and clear the floors!”

The building looms more than ten stories above Suro and Araji. The duo approach the large glass-covered main hall of the hotel. Suro and Araji enter through two open doors into the temperature-controlled cool air of the hotel interior.

Suro follows Araji past ornately decorated red and green walls with golden foil caricatures of mythical creatures and past brown leather lounge chairs and sofas. When they reach the desk in the center of the main lobby, Araji sharply turns left and then darts left once more shortly afterwards, disappearing into a stairwell. Suro nearly trips when trying to turn after her and quickly catches himself on the floor with his palms, then darts forward to try and keep up.

Suro and Araji rush up a flight of stairs and past evacuating vacationers. When they rush out into the second floor hallway, they see all the doors to every room swung open. Araji runs back and forth, peeking inside of rooms.

“All empty on this floor!” Araji calls out, breathing heavily, “Suro, check the floor above us! We’ll alternate floors until we meet at the roof!”

Suro takes a moment to reel from the intense physical exercise he just went through. He heaves and wheezes from long-since untrained lungs. Rest won’t do him good now.

He must keep going.

Suro tails his companion and floor by floor, Araji and Suro get occupants moving and clear out every room systematically. After finishing his sixth floor or so, Suro’s legs are aching and buckling, but he pushes on towards the last few steps leading up to the roof.

Suro turns the handle and swings his body sideways into the door, causing him to fall to his knees out on the rooftop as the door crashes outwards. The sun has fully peaked over the horizon and now shines brightly, beating down on the back of Suro’s neck. Below the roof level, the fog of the mountainside obscures the view in every direction.

Suro pants and gulps in air, his chest lowering and raising rapidly. Araji’s pitter-patter of footsteps echo out of the stairwell behind him, and before long, he sees the shadow of her dress and legs rush past his peripheral vision.

“Hey you kids, get away from there! You need to evacuate right now!”

Suro looks up and sees Araij moving towards two small children playing around on the ledge of the rooftop. Just as Suro lunges forward and stumbles to his feet, the roof begins to rumble yet again. Araji leaps over to the two kids and grabs them, slinging the both of them over her shoulders.

“Suro, grab one, I can’t carry them all!” Araji commands, her voice strained and dry.

Suro rapidly shuffles over and Araji places one of the children piggyback onto Suro, then positions the other child similarly onto her own back. He holds on tight to the child’s right leg with his good arm.

“Let’s move!”

Suro tiredly nods.

The two set off down the stairs. Although they are heaving and shakily bounce between every step on their way down, each step Suro takes jolts him forward. Suro can feel the soreness in his lungs, the feeling of every layer of alveoli stripped of their moisture and forced to absorb dry, cold air from the stairwell that becomes insufferably hot once drawn into his throat.

After endless steps, the duo exhaustedly make it to the lobby, where Araji turns left at the desk and bounds out of the front door with Suro. The deck shakes one last time as they reach the stable solid ground on the paved road in front of the hotel. The road leads off steeply downwards to the left and curves back to the right, disappearing below the curve of the mountain.

Araji and Suro peer over the road barrier and see a crowded black parking lot far below at the base of the mountain. Araji sets down the child from her back, and motions for Suro to do the same. She points down the road.

“Run, get to your parents in the parking lot!”

The kids take off screaming as their exhausted rescuers collapse onto the road barrier. Araji and Suro take turns coughing and looking blankly at each other. Their hair is slicked back with sweat, their clothes heavy and stuck to their backs.

Their tortured expressions savor the moment of peace before the resort behind them belows a loud metallic creaking roar. Araji grabs Suro by his right arm, dives over the edge of the road barrier, and down the steep mountainside. She raises her free hand palm with curled fingers and strikes upwards, bringing a flat stone slab out of the dirt below.

She barely catches her balance as she lands on the board with Suro’s weight pressing down on her. She rotates her right ankle sharply and creates a foothold in the slab as she begins the descent. Suro limply leans against Araji’s back, passed out. Araji sweeps left and right, weaving in between trees and roots. The rock board begins to crack beneath Araji’s feet. Every swerve results in part of the slab chipping off around the edges and crumbling. Air whips Araji’s long black hair in tendril-like trails behind her.

She spots a ridge in the mountainside below her. It’s too wide to dodge. She braces for impact.

The board ramps off the ridge, sending Araji and Suro’s limp body flying. Araji quickly summons another slab below her and lands. She spots Suro’s body fly out much farther into the treeline below.

“Suro!” Araji screams out.

* * *

 

Suro hears a voice call out for him. The darkness behind his closed eyes peels away to reveal a starry sky that he had seen in a vision prior. The blue-clad woman has returned.

“You did well, Suro. I’m not sure I’ve seen many people power through that much physical punishment before. Reminds me of my past.”

Suro realizes his body in his mind and comes into being.

“What’s happening?”

“You’re unconscious and falling down a mountain.”

“...”

“You need help, and I know you haven’t had much practice, but I need you to do something.”

“Okay.”

“Think back to those people you saw behind me. Try to remember them.”

Suro pauses and focuses his mind. The greyed out figures appear behind the woman once more.

“Now what?”

“Call out to them. Ask them for their guidance.”

“Help!”

“Think it!” the woman rushedly exclaims.

Suro imagines himself yelling to the crowd of people, pleading for their guidance and wisdom. Momentarily, their downcast expressions flick upwards and stare at Suro with white glowing eyes.

The starry sky and the woman flash out of Suro’s mind and everything goes to black.

* * *

 

Araji squints at the treeline ahead of her, trying to catch a glimpse of Suro. As she focuses on the drop below her, a body rises upwards through the fog. Although the details of the form are hidden behind a veil of grey, bright white glowing eyes pierce the fog staring straight back at her. The form rises up into the air and strikes its arms to its sides, pushing the fog away in a radiating sphere away from itself.

Araji can now see that it is Suro, floating within a spherical vortex. Araji passes below Suro and stops a short distance past him, her heels first breaking through her rock board and digging into the mountainside dirt. The massive hotel has fallen over the side of the mountain along with its deck foundation and is now heading straight down the mountain at Suro. Araji glances over her shoulder and back.

It’s going to fall on the parking lot. There’s nothing she can do to stop it. Large chunks of asphalt hurl downwards straight towards her. Araji leaps from side to side while pushing the debris as far from her sides as she can, attempting to deflect it away from the crowded lot some distance below. After she does all she can, she stands staring at Suro.

Suro’s body moves on its own once more. Encased in a sphere of air floating above the treeline, his body begins to swing its arms carefully and deliberately in a figure-eight pattern. The roar of the falling building echoes off the mountain and the building comes into view, followed by a cloud of dust throwing the fog off behind it. Suro’s body clenches its fists and strikes its arms upwards, forearms bent.

A massive shelf of rock emerges from the mountainside in front Suro and begins to block out Araji’s view of the falling building. Suro’s body flies towards the rock wall and presses against it with its right shoulder as its left arm remains raised. The rock wall continues to climb in height as the building impacts the wall. Suro pushes against the force, but is forced out of the air and lands on the steep slope, digging his feet into the ground. Araji snaps out of her stupor and quickly summons a rock board, then begins swiftly making her way down to the parking lot.

The building crashes continuously into the rock wall, bits and pieces of concrete managing to get flung over the crest of the perpendicular shelf in the mountainside. Suro digs in further and further into the ground, slowing down the falling building. Araji finally makes it down to the lot, where colorful cars and clothed guests stand staring upwards at the mountain. Araji turns back and looks up. The building begins to greatly slow its descent, however the pieces that have been falling off begin to draw near the base of the mountain.

Araji set herself into a heavy defensive stance and prepares to smash away the approaching debris. One chunk of rock flies at her and she swats her left arm upward with a fist, snapping her arm into a vertical position. In response, the rock is deflected off of its course and flies to Araji’s left. Another hunk of rock flies at her, followed by yet a third one. Araji pushes forward open-palmed in her right hand and moves her left arm to her right until it crosses over her right forearm. The rocks halt and are flung to the right.

Araji quickly sets her fists down to the blacktop, falling to one knee, then jumps upwards with one fist raised into the air with the other arm swiping diagonally at an angle perpendicular to the mountainside only a few feet in front of her. A small rock wall about twice Araji’s height and once her body thickness rises from the ground and begins to take impacts from other hunks of rock falling down the slope. Araji jumps back from the wall and repeats the process to form a secondary barrier and catch any pieces that break away from the larger pieces of debris.

She lands after the second jump, and collapses backwards onto her elbows on the asphalt. She looks up at the mountain and sees that the building and rock shelf are much farther down that they were the last time she got a chance to look, no more than a hundred feet from the parking lot up the mountain. The rock wall is still and the building is no longer moving, but rather rests hanging partially over the edge of the shelf.

Araji sees Suro dug about waist deep into the mountainside, his lower half surrounded by a rock casing. She wearily raises herself off the ground. Suro is unmoving, still leaning on the wall. People behind her begin to whisper and mumble. Araji hears someone mention the Avatar.

“Suro!” she calls out worriedly.

Araji bounds past the border of the black top and begins scrambling up the mountainside towards Suro. Her muscles ache and her energy is drained, but she presses on. The shadow of the rock wall covers Araji as she approaches him.

When she reaches Suro, she sees that he is unconscious. As she draws near, she sees the faint white glow in his eyes dim and go out. Suro is breathing, but his chest movements are weak and he is rasping quietly. Araji kicks away the rock around Suro’s waist and stomps her foot, causing Suro to spring up out of the ground. Araji swipes her arm weakly to her side and catches Suro with a wide rock slab before he can hit the ground and roll down the mountain.

Exhausted, Araji falls flat onto the slab as well. She closes her eyes and takes in the fresh air, heaving with every breath as her mind goes blank.

Minutes pass.

Her breathing has calmed, but her exhales are raspy. Her slow and deep sighs sound out in dissonance with Suro’s shallower, quicker breaths. The air condenses around her and misty droplets form on her skin, combining with droplets of sweat and running off of her body onto the rock.

She shivers and promptly releases a dry cough. Araji opens her eyes and looks to her left at Suro, who hasn’t moved and still steadily wheezes out light breaths. She gets up onto her elbows shakily and pushes herself up from the slab, falling on the ground onto her palms. She stands and balances her leg on the slanted slab. Araji leans forward and examines Suro for injuries.

Suro’s damaged arm is missing all of the wrappings that Araji had placed the night before. The arm has deep cuts and scrapes packed with dirt. His body and loaned clothes are caked in patches of grime as well, and his legs are completely covered in mud.

Araji pulls Suro onto her back and begins descending back towards the lot.  Vehicles had already begun leaving the parking lot, however a small crowd awaits the pair. Once she gets to ground level, the crowd begins cheering wildly, various voices overlapping and mentioning the Avatar. Brott and Oji step out of the cheering mass and run over to Araji. Brott moves to her side and takes Suro off of her back, cradling him in his arms.

Araji’s eyes widen at the sight of her father and she collapses onto him, hugging on as tightly as she can. The crowd quiets down.

“You saved everyone Araji. I’m so proud.” he says quietly into her ear.

Oji looks over at Brott and asks.

“I’m Oji, are you the boy’s father?”

“Yes, my name is Brott and we were just making our way to Republic City when we got into an accident.”

“He came by last night to ask for directions. I never imagined that that refugee boy could be the second Avatar. That glow, that power, it’s unmistakable. ”

“...Second, you say?” Brott mumbles almost inaudibly.

“Come, I will take you the rest of the way to Republic City. You must bring him to the White Lotus at once.”  

“Yes, if that’s what must be done. Thank you.” Brott says, hiding his gritted teeth.

Araji listens to the conversation, but barely registers what is being said. The crowd has cleared and the people continue to drive away. Oji holds his daughter up by the shoulder as she walks along, dragging her feet. Brott’s friends remain in place where the crowd was and they follow him as he walks past.

Oji pulls out car keys from his robe and a sienna-colored minivan in front of him lights up. His wife, sitting in the passenger seat, waves to the group. Oji slides open the rear door, revealing two additional rows of seats. Araji, Suro, and Brott take the middle row while Fihr, Lei, and Seok take the back row.

“Republic City is a few hours away, so get comfortable.” Oji says.

Brott nods and looks over at Suro. He’s fast asleep.

_Good, get some rest young Suro. There's much to do, and I fear that the distance between us may grow larger than I anticipated._


	7. Republic City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suro arrives at the gates of Republic City. But what awaits him in one of the world's largest metropolises..?

 

* * *

**REPUBLIC CITY**

* * *

 

"Suro! Suro! We're here."

Brott shakes Suro awake.

"Wha-?"

"Republic City! Come look at it."

Suro jumps awake and hits his head against the low ceiling of the minivan.

"Ach..." Suro mutters.

Brott and Araji giggle. Suro stops moving and stares out the front windshield.

The bright blue sky extends above the features of the city with few clouds obscuring the sun. Over the curve of the road, he sees airships floating around. A couple of planes trail vapor entering and leaving the city. The tips of tall buildings and various radio spires protrude out from the slope's edge. The road evens out and the city fully comes into view.

The city is stretched out across a peninsula and the surrounding mountainside, with bays edging their way in. Starting from the base of the mountains circling the bay, tall multicolored brick apartment buildings with ornamental rooftops extend to the shorefront. Lining the shorefront, sleek glass skyscrapers rise up above the tenements.

Large ports with tall steel cranes make up the many harbors along the bays. In the center of the dense city, a peninsula filled with even more numerous and tightly-packed skyscrapers splays out. A large, circular green park sits in the middle of the peninsula and a bright yellow glow emanates from the center. Elevated highways snake their way through the city and morph into large, intricately architectured metal bridges that link the peninsula to the greater bay around it.

The streets are barely visible in between the grids of the megalopolis, however small neon signs glitter in the bay valley below, arrayed upon different levels of the buildings. A flock of pigeon-gulls flies in the distance, v-shaped wings dotting the sky as their large formation passes out of view. The mountains around the city sit as anything but bare and natural, as buildings and roads are etched into terraced tiers on their sides.

The road dips downwards ahead; Suro can see that it merges into a greater highway. Spanning six lanes, the road grows more packed with trucks and Satomobiles the closer it gets to the city. Suro takes a deep breath, as the city is grander and more expansive than he can imagine. Buildings stretch out in between the mountains in the distance. Only the distant fog that wreaths and snakes around the peaks stops Suro from seeing the end of the urban jungle.

"If you're so amazed by the view, wait until you see the traffic," Oji says with a deadpan expression, then bursts out laughing, along with the Lotus Outcasts.

"Dad..." Araji pleads.

"We won't see you for months. Just tolerate your father's humor for a few more minutes and we'll be out of your hair." Araji's mother speaks up.

"It might be longer than a few minutes, Aura." Oji says, nodding towards the traffic ahead.

The highway culminates in a wide tollbooth stop some distance away.

"Should we just get out and walk?" Suro asks.

"Suro may be right," Araji agrees.

"They won't let you pass if you're not in a car. I've been here before, Araji. You too, Suro. Be patient." Oji counters.

Suro and Araji glance at each other with frowns, shrug, and lean against the windows.

* * *

 

After about half an hour of slowly pushing forward, the minivan pulled into one of the tollbooths. Connected by the roof to every other lane, the tollbooths have spiked, slanted roofs, imitating ancient pagodas. Unamused workers sitting in the small booths fumble around with papers and documents. The roads ahead are blocked off by metal walls.

The worker at the tollbooth Oji pulls into is a plain young woman with a stern expression. She wears an orange and blue striped outfit and orange clerk's cap. Oji rolls down the window. Popping open the dashboard, he hands the woman an identification card. She speaks in monotone:

"Purpose of visit?"

"Dropping my family off in the city and sending my girl to college," Oji says, not batting an eye as she reaches out a gloved hand to touch the frame of the car.

"Truth. Any illegal contraband?"

"Only clothes and minor valuables."

"Truth. Any illegal persons or motives?"

Suro stiffens at the question. She's going to sense his reaction if he doesn't act fast. Suro knows the procedure, and tries lowering his heart rate.

Oji pauses momentarily in his response, gripping the steering wheel tightly. Suro feels the frame of the car faintly vibrate through his forehead pressed to the glass.

"No ma'am."

"Truth. Vehicle is clear. The toll is 31 yuans."

"Thirty-one?" Oji pronounces the syllables distinctly.

The woman in the booth gives him a look.

"As of fall of last year, the toll fares have been raised by 25% to cover the increased cost of maintaining the Republic Highway System."

"I see," Oji exhales.

He reaches into the dashboard and withdraws three crisp orange bills and green one, handing them to the woman. She feeds them into a receptacle on her desk and punches a few keys on a keypad on her desk.

"Proceed."

The sheet metal barrier raises up and the minivan moves through.

* * *

 

From there, the highway leads directly into the city. The ground begins to slope down above either side of the multi-laned road and the highway begins running elevated above street level. Green street signs pointing out unfamiliar names with arrows hang from metal arches that go above the road.

From the minivan windows, Suro sees the upper stories of buildings pass by. Some of the older ones have beautifully painted murals of urban life; they fly past Suro's field of vision, granting him small opportunities to glimpse at them. Advertisement billboards hang off the sides of brick walls on either side of the highway along with neon signs demarcating different establishments in the streets below. The tenements form the walls of the corridor around the highway, blocking the view of the rest of the city.

"Aura, dear, where do the directions say to turn off?" Oji asks.

His wife holds up a thick piece of paper with a few lines of text on it. Below the text is a picture of an ornate brown and red brick old-city building with a slanted roof.

"Turn right onto Exit 45 and head straight onto Momo Drive. Then head along for 2 miles and take a left at Dragon Lily Square," his wife speaks in her gentle voice.

"Thank you, dear," Oji responds, then asks, "So, Brott, where should I drop you off? Want me to take you to White Lotus Square?"

"No, but thank you. We'll be fine getting off wherever you're dropping off your daughter."

"We're taking her to the Police Academy. They just built a new station on the Sokka Line nearby there that leads straight to the heart of the city."

Brott nudges Suro and gives him a nervous look. Suro flattens out his palms and shakes them at knee level, signalling for Brott not to worry.

Oji signals and turns right onto the ramp. The minivan descends below the elevated highway and Suro takes in the city under the road.

Covered by the shadow of the highway, dark streets lit by headlights are laid out, crisscrossing well into the distance. Shops on either side of the road are lit up by their small neon marquee signs. Graffiti decorates the stores that remain closed, their metal shutters hiding valuables. Suro feels an eerie, unsettling vibe about this area.

People in plain and simple clothes hurry along the shadowed streets of the world under the highway. Vehicles speed back and forth; Suro hears a police siren wailing into existence, then echoing out among the many corridors of the neighborhood. Clotheslines hang from windows, tied to old, non functioning wrought-iron street lamps. Some windows of both the stores and the apartments above are broken or cracked, yet the lights are still on, indicating that people are still inside.

The road ahead of the minivan is tattered, rough, and thinly-paved. Potholes and cracks in the asphalt reveal the bare ground below and shake the people inside as Oji drives over them.

"This is Dragon Flats. I would recommend avoiding this area," Oji says.

"It's the same as when I was last here," Brott responds morosely.

A few blocks up, the shadow of the highway ends as it turns leftward. The minivan passes a large steel barrier that cuts off the sidewalk on either side of the road. Within moments, Suro is ripped from the despair he had just seen and looks around at a rather pristine city scene.

The brown brick tenements have ended, replaced by light-colored stone apartment complexes six or more floors in height. Quaint balconies pop out of wide-framed doors on the upper floors, and the windows are spacious, allowing Suro to see the warm orange lights inside the rooms behind them.

Faux-columns and slanted temple roofs are carved around every window. The tops of the buildings range from slate grey to bright blue in color, slanting steeply upwards and ending in pointed chimneys and spiked rooftop corners. People in hip clothing roam about, basking in the shining sun. The sidewalk pavements are clean and wide, and the road is a deep black with a pair of bright yellow lines straight down the middle. Characters painted in a large white font on the road indicate pedestrian crossings and green signs hang from sleek, shiny lamp posts, indicating the streets.

Only a few luxurious cars stand parked on the wide road with colorful paint jobs reflecting sleek exteriors and ending in sharp tailfins. After a few blocks, Oji turns left. To the right of the minivan, a large campus with several ornate buildings like the one on the paper that Suro saw are arrayed across from each other. Oji pulls into a crescent-shaped indent around a small island of pavement.

"We're here, Araji," Oji says, his voice quivering.

The doors of the minivan slide open and the small crowd piles out. Suro, Araji, and Brott stretch out after the long road trip. The campus is covered in bushes and wide trees casting shade along the many small pathways below. Young men and women in dark grey and silver uniforms make their way around the campus.

"Araji, don't forget your belongings," her mother calls out.

Araji runs over to the back of the minivan, opens the rear door, and withdraws a large suitcase with wheels. She closes the door and places the suitcase on the ground, pulling a small handle out from the top. Oji and his wife approach Araji, hug her, and begin saying their goodbyes.

Suro stands looking at the campus, breathing in fresh warm air. He's made it to the city, but now where does his quest begin? Suro hears the rolling of tires from the road behind him and turns around to see the dark minivan driving away. Araji walks up next to Suro. The two of them stand there, admiring the spacious avenue ahead, her with a suitcase and him with hands unspoiled by possessions.

Araji turns to Suro. "So, where are you planning to go?"

"We don't have a plan really, but we know that I have to train myself in the elements."

"Do you have any place to stay?"

"I don't think so?" Suro glances at Brott, who shakes his head.

"You can stay with me if you like. The Academy gave me a small apartment on the other side of the city as part of my scholarship."

"Suro, you go ahead. We'll find a place to stay. Get yourself the list and meet back with us here in four months. We'll have something going here by then," Brott says.

"What?!" Suro exclaims.

"Don't worry. Just get to know the city and train. Our mission will begin once we've settled in."

"Okay, Brott… Take care. Thank you for everything," Suro says.

Brott nods, smiles, and then motions to his friends. The Lotus outcasts turn and begin walking in the direction of Dragon Flats.

"So, let's head to the apartment," Araji pipes up once the men are half a block away.

"Wait, Araji, if you were going to your apartment why did your parents drop you off at the campus?"

"I didn't want them to have to go through the trouble of driving me all the way there. Plus, I have free travel with my ID and it wouldn't hurt to try out the subway."

She flashes a small card with her picture on it and a few symbols. "Follow me."

Suro follows and the pair approach a subway station staircase with a green railing. A sign on the head above the stairs leading down has a blue circle with a white symbol on it, reading 'Sokka.'

Suro and Araji go down the stairs and into the white-tiled subway station, her suitcase bouncing and clacking on each step. They approach a turnstile, and Araji pulls Suro close to her, causing him to blush. Pressed up against each other, Araji swipes the card then moves through the turnstile along with Suro, and then lets go. She lifts her suitcase over the turnstile and places is behind her, holding it with her right hand. The station rumbles lightly and the squealing of rails is heard.

"The train is here!" Araji yelps and grabs Suro by his good arm with her left hand.

The two storm down a set of stairs with a sign reading "City-bound Line" and see the silver-grey train pulling into the station. The platform is paved with an opaque mortar-colored tile and the edge of the platform is painted bright blue. The train slows down and stops, the sliding doors automatically opening. Araji pulls Suro into the nearest train car.

After a few seconds, the doors close, and the train begins moving. Araji lets go of Suro and grabs onto a pole in the middle of the car. Rows of unoccupied solid gray seats stick out of the white walls. The poles staggered throughout the middle of the car have red-painted segments in the middle. Suro quickly follows suit and grabs on to the same pole as the train jolts forward and begins moving. Suro and Araji are alone in the car.

Through the windows of the train, the station zooms by and is replaced by dark tunnel walls. The train car is lit by flat and long white lamps along the ceiling. Once the train stops shaking, Araji takes a seat and pats the opening beside her. Suro sits down next to her.

"So what do you plan to do for a few months?"

"I still need to be trained in the elements. A week or two ago I didn't even know why I had this power. Now I'm expected to master it."

"Well, you're an earthbender first, right? I could teach you a bit; I've been practicing to get into the Police Academy since I was a kid."

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure, but you need to get some muscle on that figure of yours. Earthbending takes a lot of physical strength. I mean, you could do it without being strong, but to be able to really attack and defend, you need to be able to hold your own. I can show you some basics in martial arts and chi-blocking too. If you get into a fight that's too close for comfort, you'll be able to disable an opponent's bending temporarily and escape," Araji lays back on her seat, "Anyways, I'll show you more after we get to the apartment. I'll take you to a gym with a rock pit later."

"Thanks, Araji. I also need something else though."

"Yeah?"

"When you're in the Police Academy, will you have access to police records?"

Araji gives Suro a curious look, "...Why do you ask?"

"Well, you heard Brott mention a list right?"

"I remember. Why?"

"We witnessed a prison break on our way out. Our safe bet is that some of the escapees are headed to this city, and some might already be here. I think that it's my job to stop them."

"Why do you feel it's your duty to stop them? I'm sure the police will catch them if they try anything."

A moment of silence hangs over the two. Suro is the one to break it.

"Araji."

"Yes? What is it?"

"I'm no good at lying."

"Huh?"

"We escaped from a prison in the desert. Brott and his friends aren't my family, they're just inmates that took pity of me."

"Desert Prison..."

"Yeah. It's some massive one that's mostly underground. But don't worry, we're not bad guys. I was thrown in when I was little and so long ago that I don't even remember when. And all Brott and his friends did was try to leave the White Lotus-"

"I get it. I know you're not a bad person. Whatever you did was probably undeserving of the disproportionate punishments the Earth Empire likes giving out. I wasn't sure when you first said 'prison break,' but there's no way you're not talking about the Desert Dragon Breakout about a week ago, right?"

"Desert Dragon?"

"That's the name of the prison. It was all over the news for several days after. The propaganda board of the Earth Empire tried to hide the list of the escapees, but Republic authorities intercepted a letter. They broadcast the list of escapees everywhere in hopes that it would lead to their capture."

"It was on the news?"

"Yeah, on TV and in all the papers. Just their names won't be helpful though. I can try to comb through their criminal records and then we'll see if we can track down some leads. On the other hand, I understand why you want to capture those guys, but I don't know if you're ready. What elements do you know right now?"

"Well, I can earthbend a bit, but I haven't done that since before the prison. I also know how to throw fireballs and can control water a little."

"What about when you lifted half a mountain just this morning?"

"What?"

"Your eyes glowed and you flew upwards in an air bubble. Then you bent a massive rock wall out of the side of the mountain and stopped the whole resort from falling onto the parking lot. Don't you remember?"

"No. I don't have memories of when I go into the Avatar state unconsciously. I only remember flying off the mountainside and blacking out, then waking up in the car on the highway."

"So you can't bend like that yet without your Avatar state?"

"I don't think I can really do much other than earthbend right now."

"That's okay. I'll try to see if I can get that list, but only if I can help you take some of those guys down."

"Deal, if you train me," Suro says and gives a determined smile.

Araji returns his smile and nods. The two shake hands as the train slows to a stop. The doors open and people start to pile in.

"We'll talk more later," Araji says and the two lean back in their seats.

* * *

 

_Jade Arms_

That was the building's name carved into the front.

Araji turns the key in the door and the lock clicks. She opens it wide and lets the light from the hallway pour in and partially illuminate the room. The small apartment in front of her is a one room dorm with shades covering a small balcony on the end. Light from the outside makes the shades glow a translucent white.

Araji and Suro enter and Araji flicks on the lights. To their left is a small kitchen composed of a mini-fridge, a sink, and a small gas stove. The room is lightly furnished, only having a small bed and a couch in the center of the room. The couch overlooks a coffee table with a small TV set whose plastic cover has been removed, exposing the circuitry. To the pair's right is a small desk with a lamp on it and a chair.

Araji shuts the door behind her. "Not quite what I thought they meant by apartment, but it will have to do. I'm glad Brott chose to stay, or else we wouldn't have been able to fit that many people."

"If it's one thing, I guess it's snug," Suro responds.

Araji chuckles. "You can take the bed if you want."

"No way, I can't. It'd be rude, considering it's _your_ house."

Araji raises an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"I'd feel selfish if I wasn't."

"No problem, I was just offering in case you wanted it."

"You're too kind, Araji."

"Yeah? Well you're too selfless, Suro."

"Hey, you are too!" Suro says, raising his hands.

The duo laughs, then Araji goes to draw the blinds. She pulls them back and reveals a view of the apartment-filled street on the opposite side. Behind the apartment buildings, however, the spires of the skyscrapers on the central peninsula are visible on a backdrop of the setting sun against the orange sky.

"I don't have college until tomorrow. We have a few hours to go explore the area, so let's go get something to eat," Araji speaks up. Before Suro can respond, she adds: "I'll pay."

After heading to the center of the room, Araji opens her suitcase and reaches into the stacks of neatly folded clothes. She takes out a wad of bills and tosses them onto the coffee table.

"Hey Suro, we'll shower then head out, okay?"

Suro cranes his neck and adjusts his shirt, looking to the side.

"I'll be in and out of the bathroom in a jiffy." Araji says and opens a door in the side of the room. She runs in and closes the door. The lock clicks. Suro sits on the couch, avoiding thoughts about Araji. He hears hot water begin to run.

A few minutes later, Araji emerges from the bathroom wearing a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants, her hair still somewhat wet.

"Your turn. Here take one of my t-shirts and a pair of shorts," she says, tossing him a white shirt and khaki shorts.

Suro catches them and heads into the bathroom, shutting the door and clicking the doorknob lock to secure it behind him. It's a small bathroom with just enough room for a toilet, sink, and a shower. Clean white tile makes up the floors and the walls are painted white. Suro undresses, carefully taking off his shirt as to not swipe his injured arm, then his tattered jeans.

He steps into the shower and turns a small knob. Hot water begins to pour out rapidly, hitting his crippled arm.

"AH!"

Quickly turning off the flow of the water, Suro adjusts a small knob below that from being set to the left to point to the middle. He lets the water flow once more, but steps away from it. Feeling it out with his good hand, the water slowly goes from hot to the touch to lukewarm. Suro steps in and lets the water flow over him. This time, the water pours soothingly on his wounded flesh. Suro moans in relaxation and stands there letting the water hit him.

Letting time slip, Suro closes his eyes and slowly cleans himself.

"Hurry up, Suro," he hears knocking Araji's voice comes through the door.

Suro hops into action and begins to scrub quickly. "Coming! Almost done!"

He makes sure to wash his head before he hops out and grabs a moist towel off a wall rack. He dries himself and puts on the clothes that Araji gave him. Suro comes out of the bathroom and sees Araji standing there, arms crossed and tapping her foot on the wood floor.

"You were in there for like half an hour. I'm starving!"

"Sorry, Araji," Suro says and begins to follow her out the door. Araji sticks a hand out towards him.

"Wait, before we head out, grab yourself a pair of sandals from the big pocket in my suitcase."

Suro does so and puts on the sandals. He comes out into the hallway and Araji locks the door behind them.

* * *

 

The two walk through a nighttime street illuminated periodically by lamplight. Araji stretches her arms upwards.

"Wooo! Those were some good noodles, right Suro?"

"Yeah, almost as good as the egg buns!" Suro responds.

They pass by a dirt playground to their right. Araji motions towards the lot.

"Want me to show you a few moves?"

"Sure."

The two walk onto the dirt and Araji takes a stance, her arms open-palmed guarding her face and her feet wide, with her right foot in front of her left. Her back is straight and her posture is solid.

Araji flips her left hand downwards into an open palm, then swiftly brings it upward. A rock column follows her motion out of the ground in front of her. She lowers her hand and flips it back.

Araji stands straight up. "Now you try."

Suro attempts to mimic her stance, his torso lowered, legs wide, and one arm guarding his face.

"Back straight. And I don't think you're left-handed." Araji says and pushes an open palm against Suro's back, making him straighten out.

Suro switches his leg positioning. She adds: "Go ahead."

Suro repeats the maneuver and a similar-sized pillar emerges from the ground, albeit at a crooked angle.

"Try again and keep your hand evenly flat." Araji comments.

Suro lowers the pillar, then tries raising it again, this time managing to get a rather straight pillar out from the ground.

"Good. Now watch this," She says and resumes her stance, punching the ground. Her movement raises a pointed rock slab from the ground.

Suro repeats the technique flawlessly.

"There you go. Now let's spar."

"Wait, what?!"

Araji stomps her foot, throwing Suro up with a rock stump from the ground. He flies up, swinging his limbs and raises a pillar at the last second, landing off balance. Araji brings a rock the size of a beachball up from the ground and launches it at Suro. He dodges it and spins around, slinging it back at her. She punches through it, shattering it into many pieces.

Suro notices the hole Araji created from the rock. He rapidly takes stance and reaches his arm out, then jerks it back slightly, tripping Araji by the ankles with a small rock plate. She stumbles over the hole and falls down, but catches herself and pushes off the ground with small launching cylinders and somersaults through the air.

Suro jumps back away from her as she swings at him with a kick and narrowly misses. She jumps in the air and follow her first attack with a spin kick. Suro quickly raises a small rock wall and backs off once more, but she smashes through it. Suro stomps the ground and summons a quick slab to counter before Araji can land. It hits her squarely in the lower back, and she falls onto the ground, catching herself on small rocks.

Suro slides his foot forward and sends a small rock wave at Araji. She tries to jump up to evade, but gets caught in the stomach by it and is thrown back. She spins in the air and lands in a lunge position, one fist on the ground. Huffing, Araji speaks up.

"You're pretty good. I guess we can skip the basics then. Let's go back before we need to shower again or someone catches us."

Araji grins and stands up. Suro relaxes his stance and bows.

"Thanks, Araji," Suro says and the two walk back onto the sidewalk.

"If I didn't expect you to be able to do more than that, you wouldn't have pushed yourself to discover your skills. Always push yourself Suro. I'll take you to an actual gym to train tomorrow when I get back."

Suro and Araji walk off back to their apartment as the waning crescent moon hangs in the sky.


	8. Araji Alone (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Araji goes through the motions of her hectic first day at the Police Academy.

* * *

**ARAJI ALONE (PART I)**

* * *

 

Araji wakes up early the next day. By the faint yellowish orange light coming from outside the windows, she can tell it's shortly after sunrise. Suro's quiet breathing is immediately audible to her. He's still deep asleep.

Araji gets up off of the bed and goes to the bathroom to freshen up. She washes her face in the mirror, brushes her teeth, and rolls her hair into short bangs as per the dress code. Returning to the main room, she slips out of her nightwear t-shirt and shorts, and dons her brand new metalbender trainee uniform. Araji grabs her baton from the open suitcase on the floor and snaps it to her belt. The metallic clink makes her shudder from wish fulfillment.

The torso is light gray and has the classic segmented stripe armor pattern, however is missing the large shoulder plates that an elite officer has once they are admitted into the metalbending force. The classic metal divided skirt is in place, while the leggings are olive in color. She has the black utility belt on and staring at it reminds her of how she reluctantly left her old magnetic belt at home. The arm covers are full sleeved, yet lack the golden arrows at the wrist that an officer traditionally has which signify their rank.

This particular type of uniform is handed out only to those top students who successfully applied to the metalbending trainee program. As a result, the owner of an outfit like this would be immediately noticeable among the throngs of regular blue officers and assorted departments. Araji feels great pride as she glides her hands along the smooth tiered contour of her new armor. Cold to the touch in the warm room, she stops patting after the thought of leaving fingerprint marks all over her new uniform strikes.

Did she forget anything?

She digs out a pair of spare keys from the suitcase and drops them on the tv table. Araji takes one more look at the room around her. Suro is splayed out on the couch, his injured arm limply hanging off the side. For all that it's worth, he doesn't look half bad for someone who just fought a mountain, or in general. He's a bit too lanky for her tastes and could use a haircut, but he's still one of the nicer guys that she's known.

Araji pinches herself out of her thoughts; she'll be late on the first day. And considering how stern the officers seemed on the TeleVarrick… she'd better get moving.

Araji reaches into the pockets of yesterday's clothes and stuffs the leftover money and her travel ID into a pouch in the utility belt. The rest of a room is a mess; dirty clothes are piled up in a corner and clean clothes are spread out across the rest of the space. With slight regret, Araji recalls herself simply dumping the contents of the suitcase to find her uniform.

Araji locks the door behind her as she leaves the apartment as quietly as possible.

"Sorry, Suro."

Walking down the street, Araji sees a small newsstand. The vendor inside yawns as she approaches him.

"Do you have any newspapers from about a week ago?" Araji asks.

"Whatever we have is right on that rack," the vendor replies, pointing to Araji's right.

She walks up and rifles through it with her left hand, occasionally picking one out of the stack to glance at it. After some time, she finds the right date and paper:

_The Elemental Times._

Araji flips to the headline page: ' _Big Prison, Big Breakout: Busted Out of With a Bang For the Empire's Buck.' More information on pages 6-8._

It's hard to believe this headline isn't a joke. The picture below shows a blurry aerial photo of a tower in the desert. She hands the man a green yuan note and shoves the rest of the paper into a small bin next to the stand, folding the torn-out pages into a pouch on her belt.

* * *

 

The train ride seems much longer without smalltalk. Counting the stops along the way, Araji estimates that it takes about 30 minutes in 13 stops to make it from her apartment to the Academy. As she leaves the underground station and enters the outside world, Araji looks up to see the sky is somewhat cloudy, with bright blue peeking through intermittently.

Araji walks past one of the main buildings of the grounds and comes around to the open campus scene that she saw yesterday when her father dropped her off here. Albeit devoid of students and dimmed by the cloud cover, the same shaded pathways and foliage greet her. Araji needs to go to the Wu Auditorium building for orientation, so she walks into the green, looking at either side of her to read the building labels.

About two rows of buildings down, she finds the one she is looking for on her left. Just like many of the other campus structures, the doors are made of some antique mud-brown wood and smell musty. Araji opens the door and peeks inside.

She sees a large, open room with many rows of empty folding chairs. The only person in the room is a tall, muscular bald man bending over to pick something off the ground on the stage. Araji enters and the door creaks loudly behind her, slamming it's metal lock into its twin. The man looks up from his bent posture and stands up. He calls out with a gruff angry voice:

"You're too early, recruit!"

Araji's eyes widen and she freezes in place. "R-really?"

"Sit down and pipe down. Now you have to wait for the other newbies to get here."

Araji moves to the front of the room and takes a seat in the middle of the front row. With thick purple bags under his eyes, the instructor gives her an irritated look, then moves behind a podium and begins to rustle papers around, mumbling under his breath.

Araji folds her hands together and hums quietly to herself. A small clock hangs above the stage and she periodically glances at it.

It's 7:12 in the morning.

* * *

 

The minute hand clicks into place.

8:45.

The room around Araji is full of chatter as all the seats are packed. Students in various police recruit uniforms recline and lounge about in the chairs.

Some wear the classic blue officer's suit, with new brown leather gloves and boots. A few others like Araji wear metalbender trainee armor. Among the students in the room there are also white and blue or alternatively red striped rescue officer training uniforms from the paramedic and rescue program. Black and red lightning corp uniformed-students also grace the crowd here and there, their signature lightning bolt within a flame arm insignia commanding respect among the other pupils. The instructor had disappeared behind the stage as soon as the first students began coming in. Araji sits quietly, looking around at her future classmates.

This year's recruits are a diverse bunch, their skin tones ranging from the light pale of an fire nation city-dweller to the dark, deep tone of a water tribe fisherman's son. Although their outfits are identical within the confines of their assigned departments and styles, many of the students take advantage of the fact that they do not yet have to wear police caps and accent their hair with red, blue, and green dyes to mark their ancestry.

Araji knows all about the fashion trend, and despite being a bender, she never found any interest in broadcasting it to everyone like most of her peers. Araji finds herself somewhat irritated by the hip trend of idolizing benders. It did, however, make things easier for her in social groups back when she attended lower education. Then again, it made all the boys constantly chase her, so she settles firmly on being mildly annoyed.

Just as she reaffirms this, the instructor returns from the blinds in the center of the stage and takes his stand at the podium. The recruits quiet down as soon as they see him. The rush of students all trying to sit up straight at the same time echoes screeches and creaks of metal chairs across the auditorium.

"While I'm not sure you set any records for good behavior, it's clear that you've set the fastest time for pretending not to slack off. Welcome students, I am your orientation instructor, Deng. You are all here because you have been accepted into this prestigious law enforcement institution. Despite what you've been told, however, your positions in this school aren't secure yet."

The audience murmurs and gasps.

"Today is a special day for this school, just like it is every year. Initiation Day. It decides who is kicked out of the program and who stays. Some of those who don't get the boot even get put on the fast track. Think of this as a real assignment, because it determines whether or not you'll be real police officers within the next few months. Even if you do succeed in this challenge, the training will be brutal to make up for how short it is.

"Anyway, this year's field test will be another run of Cops and Criminals. One team will be the police, and the other, obviously, the criminals. Just as in actual police work, you will be split up into squads. Unlike actual police work, you will do it in groups of three. Due to how evenly-distributed the entrants are this year among the disciplines, each squad will have one firebender, one waterbender, and one earthbender.

"The criminals must protect their fake drug parcel, whilst the police must capture these parcels. To make it easier for the police this time and to prevent another infamous hide and seek incident like the one six years ago, once the criminals lose their package whether captured or otherwise, the police will not be required to capture them. Each squad is recommended to coordinate with the other squads on their team, however the squad with the most captures will receive the most reward.

"Still, don't rush to abandon your team and engage in fierce competition. Not only will both teams be able to report unfair actions of any person on the other, they will also have the ability to commend exceptional behavior. During this exercise, you will have to fight each rules for combat this year are as such:

"No icicles or shards of any kind during icebending.

"No lightningbending, and fire may not exceed a dull cherry on the color-temperature scale.

"Only blunt rocks are permitted, and no crushing techniques are allowed.

"No excessively rough play or intentionally-caused injuries.

"If you cause any destruction to public or private property such as on the grounds of this institution, you will be responsible for the damage and may be expelled from the program depending on the severity. Examinees are also not allowed to stray too far from the campus grounds under penalty of result invalidation.

"You will now be called to receive your squad assignments. Criminals, as soon as you get your packages and papers, you are free to go and plan your strategies with a five minute head start.

Remember the motto: 'Camaraderie, Respect, Protection, Duty.' I will now begin calling squads and names."

Should Araji hope to be a cop or a criminal? Being a criminal and having to run away sounds fun, but even getting to pretend to be police officer would be Araji's dream choice. The man starts with the criminals, announcing squads A through N, and Araji doesn't hear her name. Students come up in groups of three, grab their papers, and head outside.

Alright, She's a cop for sure!

"Now for the Police. Squad A: Araji Mithra, Anzo Attakai, Ehnick Stekkar. Come up to receive your assignment papers."

Araji stands and walks over to the podium, and two boys join her. To her left is a pale, tall young man with a red stripe in his wavy, shoulder-length black hair, and to her right is a dark-skinned boy with a small white-fur neck collar and braided brown hair. The instructor hands Araji a small pamphlet and points them out.

"Squad B: De-"

The squad heads out and the door shuts behind them. The red hair streaked boy is clad in the bulging attire of lightning corp uniform. He wears a heavy black vest accented with red underneath the sleeves. Similarly-colored pouches are attached to his chest and the lightning-flame insignia is on the left side of the upper breast of the clothing article. The pants are woven with some kind of rough, baggy fiber and have deep crimson lines running along their outer edges. The neck of the vest is puffy and thick, with a space clearly intended to fit a helmet indented into it. His chin is sharp and strong, and he has wide eyes with molten bronze colored pupils.

The other boy is in the traditional fur-collared suit of a rescue officer, with the highlight lines on his outfit being a light blue in color. His shirt and pants are baggy and white, with blue highlights running down the center aside a zipper. The sleeves are wide and open, ending before the elbow. He has a belt in white similar to Araji's, but the biggest pouch has the symbols for "First Aid" in red on it. At the ends of his arm sleeves and slightly above the ankle on each leg he has one bright-green stripe in the standard emergency service scheme. His eyes are a drab blue, set upon a wide nose and square chin.

The red hair streaked boy turns to his squad and begins speaking.

"I'm Anzo, and I assume you are Araji and Ehnick. There's no time to waste, so read out to us what it says on the paper."

"Oh, uh..." Araji mumbles and looks at the paper. She begins reading out loud:

"Your main goal is to capture as many parcels as possible while working together as a team. Your unique secret role is to be informants, which means you must report on your teammates' actions if they stray from their primary roles. If you catch a squad attempting to complete their secret mission, you must take them down like you would the enemy. Your own hidden task is to-"

The voice of the the waterbender Ehnick interrupts as he motions at other squads of cops that begin to walk through the doors. "Wait, I just realized something, so keep your voices down. The motto of the police department is 'Respect, Camaraderie, Protection, and Duty.' Why did Deng switch Camaraderie and Respect? It's supposed to be RCPD, you know, for 'Republic City Police Department?' There has to be some reason."

"Now that you mention it, it does seem odd..." Anzo replies, putting his hand to his chin.

"This doesn't sound right. If we were the only informants, why would we also have a secret role?" Ehnick postures.

"What if we get caught by informants? Since we're also informants, what will happen to us?" Araji adds.

"So, we can't be the only informants. There must be at least several groups that are informants as well. I don't doubt that this is a trick to sort out who rats out who." Anzo states.

"That means we shouldn't rat anyone out, but also that we should be extra careful on our secret mission. Since every other squad of cops is probably going to rush straight after the criminals and will either ignore reading the instructions or try to save their secret mission for last, I think it would be most prudent if we immediately went for our hidden task." Araji concludes.

"That's a solid plan. So Araji, finish reading our secret mission." Anzo asks.

"Your own hidden task is to steal a tome on Agriculture and Economy from the back room of the library without getting caught. Good Luck." Araji finishes off the small paragraph on the pamphlet.

"That's it?" Ehnick cries out under his breath.

"Wait, let me read it." Anzo asks, reaching out his hand.

Araji hands the pamphlet over.

The library... The library! There must be some computer terminals there from which she can access police records.

"Yep, that's it." Anzo sighs. "We need to move fast."

The group members nod as a heavy bell thunders out across the campus and they rush off, initially moving with the crowd of their fellow police. Araji takes the lead next to Anzo, with Ehnick following behind the two as they break away from the crowd. They scan the buildings around them and Araji spots the sign reading 'Wu Library.'

Araji laughs internally at the thought of every building in the campus being named after the former prince, who now spends his days partying with people four times younger. He must have practically paid for the place. As the squad enters the library, Araji reads a small plaque above the double doors. 'For Mako's Police Friends, You Guys Are the Best.'

Tall bookcases stand in rows in front of the group. To their left is a small reception booth with a young-looking man in a white librarian robe. The squad moves past the initial rows of bookshelves towards the middle of the library, where a few large monitors reside, all connected to a large black box in the center of the table.

"Let's split up to find the back room. Araji, you go look in the registry." Anzo whispers.

Araji hops into a small chair on wheels beside one of the terminals and presses the power button on the monitor. Her squadmates split up behind her and head off into the rows of bookshelves.

Let's see if she can remember how to do this. The machine beeps once and the screen lights up, turning blue. It displays "enter your command."

Hmm. Open Library?

Araji types it in and a line of text appears reading: "invalid command."

Ugh.

_Initiate_OperatingSystem_SatOS._

The computer beeps and the screen opens up into a background with a pixelated image of a stack of books.

Thank you, high school IT courses.

A command line appears in the center of the screen, with icons and text. One of the icons is labelled: "Police Records." Araji enters the command to access the file, but a message pops up saying: "correct administrator permissions missing." Araji spots an icon labelled "Library Computer Network."

She accesses the file and a small window pops up with a list of serial and room numbers. Araji checks a small sticker on the side of her monitor. A4. About halfway down the list, she finds a serial number beginning with "A4" and a room name, "Main Room." She looks around under the second column and finds several serial numbers with the room label "Library Administrator Room."

Araji stands up and walks past the computing terminals and towards the back of the library. There is a metal door ahead of her with a small mesh window. Instead of a lock, it has a keycard slot. She peers through the window and sees several screens inside the room connected to a large black computer box the same size as the one in the middle of the library.

On a small desk inside the room sits a thick book with a green cover. The window is too grainy from the mesh pattern overlay and Araji can't make out the title, however she's sure it's the tome her squad needs to find. Two birds with one stone.

"Hey guys," Araji calls out to her squadmates. They come to her and she continues in a whisper.

"The book's in the back room. There's a keycard lock, so the guy at the front desk must have it."

"How would we take the keycard?" Ehnick whispers back.

"You distract him and I'll see what I can do to get it." Araji replies, patting the baton on her hip.

"I hope you know what you're doing." Anzo warns with a sardonic expression on his face.

Araji smiles briefly and flashes a thumbs up before silently dashing off around a bookshelf corner. Anzo and Ehnick shrug and head over to the front desk.

* * *

 

The library worker is about their age and looks nervous. Anzo spots the keycard out of the corner of his eye on the counter behind the young man.

"So, you know where we can find a book called Ozai: The Story of a Failed Conqueror?" Anzo asks, then flicks a long strand of hair out of his face casually.

That query should definitely waste time. The book was only ever sold and published in the Fire Nation about a century ago. Plus, the only time that Anzo had seen it was during a vacation to his grandfather's house on Ember Island while combing through some random curios.

"I don't know, let me check."

The clerk looks down at a monitor just under the counter and begins types rapidly for a couple of seconds. The clerk clacks at the keyboard as Anzo notices a small metal wire snaking its way onto the counter.

"No, doesn't look like we have that."

"Are you sure? I swear I thought I had seen it somewhere around here."

"What do you mean? How could you have seen it if you're in the freshman field trai-" the young man cuts himself short, then freezes.

Anzo's suspicions grow. He just referred to the pair as freshmen, implying what? This guy looks too young to be a university worker, and something's not right here.

The metal wire wraps around the card and jerks backwards, swiping it off the table.

"What's going on? Are you okay?" Ehnick asks the worker with a worried expression.

He must be keying into the same realization, so Anzo decides to play along.

"What's wrong, tell us?" Anzo asks in rapid fire to follow up Ehnick's query.

This interrogation should end quickly, he's about to give in.

"No-nothing. I'm fine, I have to- it's. I need to go to the bathroom." the young man sputters.

Before the young man can run off, Araji walks behind Anzo and taps him on the wrist. He follows her and taps on Ehnick's in turn.

"Well, thanks for the help, I guess we'll just go look for it ourselves though." Anzo says, waving.

He hears the man sighing in relief behind him.


	9. Araji Alone (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Araji and her squad have acquired the keycard. All that's left is to complete the mission.

* * *

**ARAJI ALONE (PART II)**

* * *

 

The trio follow Araji to the back of the library and approach the metal door with the keycard lock.

"Araji, we would've been able to get it if you had just waited a sec. He ran off from his post for crying out loud." Anzo vents aloofly.

"We got the keycard anyways, so don't worry." Araji responds .

"Let's just get the book, okay?" Ehnick chimes in.

"Right, sorry." Anzo apologizes.

Araji swipes the card into the lock and it beeps, displaying a green light. The lock clicks and she opens the door. She holds the door as Anzo enters the room first, followed by Ehnick. Once inside, Araji tosses the keycard onto the computer table and speaks up.

"I need to look something up. You guys go ahead and stash the book somewhere. We have nowhere to hide it and we can't just carry around our secret mission."

"Wait, Araji, I suspect that something's up with the workers here. The guy at the desk looked way too young to be an actual college librarian." Anzo exclaims.

"I stumbled upon the same thought. He said something about the freshman field training and nervously tensed up." Ehnick adds in support.

"Well, now that you mention it, something weird happened. When I first got here, the whole campus was empty. I mean, I got here the earliest out of any of the recruits, but where were all the senior recruits?"

"I have a theory." Anzo responds. He continues: "I think that the senior recruits are posing as the staff today to monitor us."

"Sounds like something they'd do for field training considering our previous discoveries." Araji agrees.

"So did we just give away our secret mission by asking for a book?" Ehnick asks, turning to Anzo.

"I don't think so. The guy blew his cover, so I doubt that he'd report any of this incident to whoever's in charge for fear of punishment." Anzo responds, dispelling Ehnick's worry. He continues, "Anyways, Araji, do whatever you need to do and meet us outside in no more than 5 minutes. You understand? I won't have us risk our mission for your curiosity."

"Trust me, it's important. I'll be done soon." Araji replies.

Anzo lifts the book and stows it under his arm, then walks out with Ehnick. The metal door clinks shut behind them.

Time to get that list for Suro.

Araji jumps into the nearest seat and pulls the newspaper clippings out of her pouch. She queries the Police Records file for all prisoner wanted notices on the date of the escape, then filters down the prison selection to only show inmates from the Desert Dragon. Lifting the newspaper list up to compare it to the screen's, she notices that one of the names on both lists is listed as unknown and has no extra file attachment to print.

That's odd. Every other name seems to match. Whatever, at least the list matches up. There's no time to wonder about it.

Araji looks around the room and her gaze catches on a large printer. She jumps out of her seat and powers the printer on, then begins rapidly selecting the names and entering the command to print the files.

The printer begins pumping out papers noisily as Araji hopes that no one will hear it. She works her way to the bottom of the list and finishes entering the print command for the last criminal entry. Araji exits the menu screen and returns the monitor to the main window.

A minute or two pass as Araji sits, anxiously waiting for the printer to finish. The stack of papers has grown about as thick as Araji's thumb as the printer continues to pile on yet even more. Finally, the last beep of the printer sounds out and the last paper slides smoothly onto the stack. Araji shoves the newspaper clippings into her pouch and jumps over to the printer, grabbing the papers and dashing out of the room. As the door shuts behind her, she stops.

The keycard! Hopefully they'll just think that the desk worker locked himself out.

Araji walks up to a bookshelf nearby and notes the label "Historical Nonfiction," then withdraws several random books from the lowest level shelf. Seeing that there is another bookshelf on the other side of this one, she hides the papers in the space between the two shelves and replaces the books. To remember where she hid it, Araji flips over the last book before placing it back.

"Ozai: The Story of a Failed Conqueror," got it.

She slips the last book into place and strides out of the library. Immediately, she is met with Anzo and Ehnick's irritated expressions.

"Let's go catch some criminals" Araji says energetically, clenching her fist and the squad runs off together down the campus lanes.

* * *

 

The first criminals that Araji's squad found was hiding in the gymnasium.

"Hey, they're over there." Araji whispers over her shoulder and points to the opposite corner of the gymnasium.

The group spots a head peek out from the distant bleachers and then disappear behind them. In the center of the gymnasium resides a rectangular dirt court with channels of water under grates running around the perimeter. The only door leading out of the gymnasium is the one through which Araji's squad just entered.

"Listen up, we've got you pinned! Come out and hand over your package or we'll be forced to take it by force!" Anzo commands, his voice echoing off the wide walls of the gymnasium.

Upon hearing no response, Anzo motions for his squad to follow and begins charging towards the corner bleachers. While Ehnick follows right after, Araji decides to cut off any potential escape and moves towards the other end of the bleachers directly to her right. As she moves in behind them, she ducks under a metal beam and enters the shaded realm behind the bleachers. There is just enough space to fit her body widthwise and a few inches to spare.

On the other side, she sees three students scrambling to get away from blasts of fire that jet out behind them. Araji runs forward to intercept them. They spot her and turn sharply rightwards to escape through a gap in the bleachers. Three loud thuds echo out as Araji and Anzo meet at the middle gap through which the students escaped.

Ehnick stands atop a ten foot ice wall brought up from the channel on the edge of the court. The criminal squad that they were pursuing lay defeated at the foot of the ice wall. Anzo grabs a small, square parcel no bigger than the palm of his hand and shoves it into his belt.

"Good work, team." Anzo gives a determined smile, then adds: "Let's move."

* * *

 

The next group that Araji's squad encountered was hiding on the roof of one of the campus buildings.

"Get down from there and give up! You're trapped!" Araji yells out.

Those guys have probably been up there since the training first started.

"Or what? You're not in any position to tell us what to do!" One of the students on the roof teases.

"Don't make us knock you off of there!" Anzo yells out fiercly.

"Don't cliche us to death!" the same student calls out in response.

Enough of this.

Araji punches her fist upwards, ripping a large ball of grass-covered dirt out of the ground. She uses her other arm to punch in front of the floating ball, shooting chunks of dirt at the roof-dwelling criminal squad. Anzo begins rapidly firing fireballs at the roof, followed by Ehnick drawing water from a fountain and launching ice balls.

The students attempt to dance around on the roof to dodge, managing to keep out of the way of the volley of incoming projections. Only moments later, however, one of the students is struck down by a glob of earth and the other two run into each other while watching their comrade fall. Araji boosts herself on a column of dirt and lands on the roof.

Araji reaches into the pouch of the student who talked back to her squad and takes a parcel out from it. She jumps back off of the roof before the criminal squad can bring itself back to its feet and lands on another dirt column that she raises. Tossing the package to Anzo, she waves her hand and runs off with her group.

* * *

 

In such a fashion, Araji's squad proceeded to collect seven packages before they decided to split up to cover more ground.

Araji runs to the entrance driveway of the campus, looking for signs of movement. Considering how easily her group had been catching these other students, there should be no issue with splitting up. Araji spots a lone student leaning in the shade of one of the buildings. She runs up to him and he addresses her.

"Hey, need something to make yourself feel good? I've got just the stuff, girl."

Araji laughs and decides to play into her role of police officer. Excitedly, she responds

"That's pretty funny, but- HALT, DRUG DEALER, YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!"

The student's expression changes from collected to startled and he runs off. Araji follows hot on his heels as the chase leads her off the campus.

"Hey, you're not allowed to leave the campus!" Araji complains to the fleeing student.

He swings an arm behind him, raising a block of concrete in front of Araji. She leaps over it in time, only to have to dodge a column of concrete. Araji continues to dodge and weave in between the obstacles in the path of her chase. The rich neighborhood that he is leading her through is about to end. Up ahead is the metal gate for car traffic that separates Dragon Flats from the wealthy area.

The student launches himself over the gate with a rock column.

Araji realizes that she won't be able to outrun him, so she launches herself onto the highway above the gate. She lands on the thin guardrail and continues her chase, tailing the student from above. Cars whizz by and surprised drivers catch brief glimpses at her feat of balance. Araji's bangs unfold in the wind of cars rushing by and her hair flows out behind her.

She's beginning to get tired. All the fighting and running from earlier must be getting to her, but she needs to press on. She remembers running up and down the hotel stairs with Suro to discourage her body's call to give up and rest. Several blocks down, Araji sees the student below turn off into a small street.

She stops sharply and jumps down from the highway. With waves of her hands, Araji whips out her baton wire in mid air and catches herself onto the bottom of a neon sign a few floors below the highway. She hangs there, observing the student slow down to catch his breath and approach a group of people. In the middle of the street, four more people in officer uniforms move around, unloading stacks of boxes from the back of an unmarked box truck.

The sound of whizzing cars drowns out the neon sign's foreboding creaking and one of the men yelling out to the approaching student.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Some crazy kid tried arresting me! You picked the wrong day to send me out to deal. You forgot to tell me today was the freaking Freshman Field Exercise Initiation and that they're all playing cops and criminals! The kid tried following me, but I think I lost her."

The neon sign screeches and peels off of the building wall. Araji loses her wire's grip on the sign and begins to fall. She begins ripping brick sections out of the side of the wall like steps and descends to street level as the people in the narrow street below stare upwards. The sign crashes into the pavement behind Araji as she lands and playfully calls out:

"STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINALS, THIS IS THE POLICE!"

Araji tenses up and her friendly grin fades. Her eyes widen and her shoulders drop in fear.

The realization slowly dawns upon her as she begins to turn white and slowly step backwards.

"Get her!" one of the men screams and rips out a block of concrete, launching it at Araji.

She snaps out of her stupor and leaps over the debris. More pieces of concrete fly at her and fireballs begin to whizz by, grazing trails of heat onto Araji's limbs as she narrowly dodges them.

Araji rips columned segments out of the apartment buildings on either side of the narrow street and knocks out two of the men.

The student begins running at her and throws a series of quick jabs as soon as he reaches within arm's distance. Araji blocks the jabs and counterattacks, spin-kicking the young man. Her boot contacts his face and sends his body spinning in the air while flying backwards, and it limply lands against the pavement.

The barrage has now turned down from a hail of concrete chunks to a dual cannon of fireballs, which Araji continues to dodge upon steadying herself back onto her feet. One of the men gruffly commands to his partner: "I'll take the truck, you take care of her," and runs into the waiting vehicle. Araji reaches the man blocking the truck and uppercuts him with a column of asphalt, knocking him up into the air.

The truck rumbles to life and begins to move off. Araji pursues it as crates begin falling out of the back. She sidesteps to the left to avoid one, then to the right to dodge another.

That truck is going to outpace her soon unless she stops it.

Araji grinds to a stop in the asphalt and makes the combat stance that she had shown Suro the night before, then uses both palms to raise a concrete wall in front of the speeding truck. The driver bails out of the door as the truck crashes into the barrier. He rolls on the pavement, bouncing to a stop. Araji runs over to him and quickly pins his arms and legs with small restraints.

She stands over the terrified man huffing, then angrily asks:

"What are you trying to sell?!"

"Minivar! I swear, we don't know where it came from!"

"Who did you get it from?"

"The Triple Threat Triads! We don't know anything else, I swear!

"You just said that you didn't know where it came from!" Araji barks

"They paid us to distribute a truckload of Minivar, cash upfront. I don't remember who paid us exactly! Please, let me go!"

Anzo's voice rings out some distance behind Araji:

"Araji, are you okay?"

Araji turns to see Anzo and Ehnick running up to her.

"What happened here, Araji?" Ehnick asks with a worried expression.

"I don't know. One second I was chasing who I thought was one of the student criminals. The next I wind up having to fight a group of real ones." Araji responds, sounding exasperated.

"Ehnick, go get help, I'll secure the crime scene."

"Got it." Ehnick responds and runs off.

"Araji, just relax. You'll need to tell whoever comes what happened, okay?" Anzo says, trying to persuade Araji.

"I will, thanks for coming by," She affirms, then walks over to the sidewalk and sits down.

* * *

 

Despite what Anzo had told her, Araji didn't tell the on-scene investigators everything. She forgot to mention what she learned from the man she interrogated, or maybe rather something kept her from telling it. The exercise concluded a few hours later, and Araji now sits on the stage between Anzo and Ehnick. Deng stands in front of them at the podium, getting ready to address the crowd of students arrayed in front of him.

Their faces are much more tired and serious now, sharply contrasting the lively chatter-filled atmosphere just prior to the event.

"Students, I would like to congratulate you for making it through the training exercise. You will be placed in programs according to your performance. During this exercise, you were being monitored by your upperclassmen posing as the staff. Each squad had a secret mission to complete and a secret role.

"The catch to this is that every squad's secret role was informant. The point of this part of the test was to see whether or not some of you would willingly give up your fellow team members for. Unfortunately for those that did, it was meant to test your sense of teamwork and camaraderie, and whoever gave up other students will be judged. The flipside to this, however, is that any squad that was caught and reported while trying to complete their secret mission will also be judged based on how careless they were.

"Additionally, every team will now be judged based on how many parcels they captured or on whether or not they were caught by the end of the exercise.

"The overall winner of this exercise in both merit, efficiency, ability, and service was squad A. Congratulations are in order for Araji Mithra, Anzo Attakai, and Ehnick Stekkar, who captured a total of eight packages. In addition to this, they also completed their secret mission without getting caught and did not give any teammates in.

"Beyond that however, I am proud to say that they managed stop an actual crime in progress all while topping the team. For their exceptional performance, Squad A will be placed into the Early Officer program and will receive their distinct police uniforms. They will also each receive the Republic City Junior Officer Valor badge for their actions. Squad A, you may stand."

Araji, Anzo, and Ehnick rise from their seats and bow to waves of applause. Three police officers march onto the stage and hand dark grey duffle bags into the squad's hands. Deng walks up to each of them and hands them small and square golden pins.

Araji stands, nearly tearing up. She is speechless. Looking left, then right, Araji sees Anzo and Ehnick waving, and so she joins in with them. The crowd drowns out any thought she can muster up.

* * *

 

The rest of the ceremony wasn't met with as much enthusiasm. Since Araji's squad did so well, she felt that she may have ruined other student's chances at shining since they would now have to be judged solely on their merit.

Araji said goodbye for the day to Anzo and Ehnick afterwards, but they agreed to meet up outside of the Academy sometime. Before going back to her apartment, Araji dropped by the library and picked up the criminal records she printed out, placing them into the duffle bag.

Araji spent the entirety of the train ride looking at her new uniform in the bag, admiring the shoulder pads, helmet, and arm insignia of a real officer, albeit without the sleeve rank. She felt greatly humbled and thankful for all the years of training that she pushed herself through under her father's guidance. By the time she made it to the apartment with a bag of buns and vegetables, it was nighttime.

Araji enters the flat and sees Suro lounging about on the couch with his arms under his head. Until Araji walked in, he had been staring at the ceiling. Suro gets up and greets Araji as she locks the door behind her.

"Hey, Araji, how was your day?"

"It was awesome. I did well during a field test and I think I'm going to become a real officer soon!"

"Really? I'm so happy for you!" Suro calls out, smiling from behind a twinge of mental innervation.

Should he tell her?

"Thank you!" Araji responds in kind, placing her bags onto the floor.

The two move toward each other and hug, then sit down onto the couch, continuing the chat.

"So, Suro, I got the criminal records for the list. We can start tracking down leads together soon."

"That's incredible." Suro responds, wide-eyed and happy.

"Anyway, how was your day, Suro?" Araji asks.

Suro's expression goes blank.

"Well, I think I met my firebending teacher today." Suro responds, his tone suddenly growing solemn.

"That's great news. Why do you sound so sad saying it?"

"I've seen visions and I've been in the Avatar State. You saw me do it, too. But… I learned something today and now I really need to talk with Korra and I tried meditating when she got home but she didn't appear and now I'm really confused. What do I do?" he rushedly explains.

"Slow down, Suro. From the beginning, please."

Suro sighs and takes a deep breath, then begins recounting his tale.


	10. Fire and Gold (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suro meets some new faces and uncovers an unsettling secret.

* * *

**FIRE AND GOLD (PART I)**

* * *

 

"Well, I woke up and you were gone." Suro begins his story.

* * *

 

Suro rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. Araji is nowhere to be found. While washing his face, Suro mulled over taking the luxury of another shower, eventually deciding to indulge. Quietly standing under the lukewarm flow of water, he closed his eyes and emptied his mind, relaxing.

Minutes passed and Suro began to feel his skin prune up, so he exited and dried himself. While looking around for fresh clothes, he realizes that he had none.

Yesterday's clothes will have to do.

The window blasted bright midday sun beams through the shades and illuminated a large square of the room. Suro stretched his arms while exhaling with a soft yawn then got dressed. He lounged around until the sun began to slide down into the latter part of noon and hid among clouds. Throughout the day he had been growing hungrier.

A loud explosion sound shook him out of his stupor, and the rest felt like a blur.

* * *

 

Suro continues to keep pace after the man he is chasing, sidestepping left and right around tripping stones. His target had caused the blast down the block while Suro had been lounging about. Curiosity taking priority over caution, Suro ran out of the apartment to see what was happening, grabbing the spare keys that Araji had left on his way out. The streets were strangely devoid of occupants as Suro ran toward the source of the disturbance.

As Suro approached the scene, he saw a collapsed, flaming building covered in protruding rock pillars. From inside of the building fled two men with satchels. The men split up as Suro decided to give chase, the firebender out of the two jump-blasting himself over a fence and eluding the chase. Meanwhile, the other criminal had decided to take a straight path away from Suro. The chase leads Suro far from his apartment and as he runs on, the streets take on an unfamiliar desolate feel.

Sirens wail distantly, likely attempting to apprehend the other transgressor. Newly confident after yesterday's spar, Suro uses his good arm to rips chunks of concrete from the ground and lob them at his target, who smashes through the projectiles as they fly at him.

There's no room to counterattack him yet. But maybe if he can run himself into a corner...

Suro begins to raise concrete slabs diagonally in front of the man, causing him to turn off around alternating corners as the chase moves into shadowed grid-laid streets. The poorly-paved cobble road gives Suro an idea. He begins to rip the individual cobble rocks out from the ground and pelt them towards the criminal. The barrage manages to hit its mark, despite the man's best efforts to dispel the airborne rocks.

The man faces Suro, halting the chase. Pursuer and target stand still, face to face.

"You're a persistent one, aren't you?" he grunts.

"What's in the... purse?" Suro pants in retort.

Chuckling, the criminal replies, "You look a bit tired, have a seat!"

Cobble slabs burst out from the ground, encasing Suro's legs. Before the man can follow up with an attack, Suro smashes the rock barrier at his knees and squat-jumps, launching himself with stones into the air. Rocks woosh underneath Suro as he lands back on the road. He digs his left heel into the ground and uses the tip of right foot to spin kick around, sending rocks spiraling toward the criminal. The volley once more hits its mark as the man stumbles.

"You want to try that again?!"

"Why not?" Suro responds as he repeats his maneuver several times.

The man punches through all of the successive barrages while pulling blocking slabs up from the street.

This isn't going to work. It's obvious bait.

Suro resumes his maneuver, and midway through a twirl, Suro switches direction for one full rotation, then preemptively dives to his right. He swipes the ground as he falls, sending a scoop of cobble at his target while simultaneously dodging a rolling wave of rock. Mistiming his swipe, Suro slams into the ground on his side, absorbing the full force of the dive. The man stomps up a column under Suro's stomach, throwing him a couple of feet in the air.

Suro spins aerially while clutching his injured arm to his chest, then strikes at the ground with his forearm, pushing himself off of the street diagonally with a small handhold and back onto his feet. The criminal sends another wave of earth at Suro, the rock having been stripped from the street by the first one. Regaining his balance, Suro enters stance and slides his right shin right through the wave, peeling it around his body into two halves and subsiding it.

Suro dashes toward the man to close the distance. Long range won't provide any advantage; the smaller the gap, the harder the hits that Suro can muster.

Sensing the strategy, the man uses both arms to push himself backwards, trailing his feet through the pavement as he zips away. He then kicks up some cobble and with an open-palm launches it at Suro. The frequency of the incoming projectiles increases as the criminal grows more frantic from the rapidly closing distance between the two. Suro pulls a column to strike the man from behind as he leaps and knees him in the abdomen. A pillar quickly follows Suro's leg to double-tap the criminal and knock him upwards. Suro lands low on his feet on the other side of the man and whips around. The crook crashes into the street and slowly works his way to his feet.

It's close. That recovery took significantly longer than the last time he landed a good hit.

As Suro charges forward for one last assault, he is suddenly smacked in the side by a heavy stone relief railing. The man had ripped it from a nearby brown-brick home and sucker-punched the younger combatant.

The hit sent Suro flying onto the sidewalk to his left and he feels something nearly crack in his ribs as he lands onto the ground. Finally finding the opportunity, the criminal flees as a few yuans fly out from his satchel and delicately float to the ground.

Pulsating pain rocks Suro's body as he moans loudly and rolls onto his back, the edge of the sidewalk jamming into his spine. He lay looking at the sky. Grey clouds had long since covered the bright sun that Suro saw when he woke up. A cold wind picks up, causing him to shiver and prick up the hairs on his skin. After a few minutes of rubbing his various injuries, Suro feels ready enough to sit up.

Pain runs up the surface of his chest, and Suro lifts his shirt to observe the damage done. Along the right side of his ribcage the skin is bruised and stings, the skin broken in small patches along the injury site. Gasping quietly, Suro carefully lowers his shirt and stands up. He almost falls over as he shambles to examine the scene of the fight.

A long, deep scar of dirt cuts across the middle of the street; missing stones and spirals of upturned cobble mark where the fight had just taken place. Along the road lay several blue bills. Suro meanders over and gathers them all, shoving the seven banknotes into a pocket.

The right thing to do would be to return them, but where? Suro thinks of the burning building, then frowns. Guess there's nowhere to give it back to. Even if he could…

Suro looks around.

He has no idea where he is.

* * *

 

It's been a few hours and Suro has grown hungry and tired. The injuries still ache, however he presses on in exploring the area. Suro has wandered into a market area, surrounded by tall tenements on either side. The natural lighting of the cloudy sun has faded, now overpowered by yellow paper lanterns strung across the tops of the streets. The road has turned into a poorly paved mishmash of dirt and gravel. Due in part to the locked-down shops and empty streets around him, the dingy atmosphere of the area does not sit well with Suro.

Suro let him get away. He still can't believe it.

Suro stands quietly in the middle of the street, looking around. It's dark now, and although shops line the streets around him, Suro doesn't hear nor see any people. Unfamiliar alleyways encompass him, shooting off from the thin market street he occupies.

"I'm not going to let that happen again," Suro huffs under his breath.

Suro's stomach grumbles as the scent of freshly-cooked meat wafts by. He turns to the direction of the scent and begins following along. It leads him into a thin alleyway; Suro has to skirt sideways in order to fit through. He makes his way through the shadows of the buildings on either side of him and steps out once more into the warm orange light of another market street.

Immediately, Suro is greeted by the source of the pleasant smell: a food stand with a small yellow and red umbrella. The vendor is shorter than Suro by a few inches and is wearing a small red paper haircap that roughly brings him to Suro's height. His tanned, muscular arms come out from the sleeveless red uniform apron and sit upon his otherwise inconspicuously slim form. Suro notes that the umbrella seems to be more of a decoration than a functional attachment. It idly casts a shadow over the slowly rotating sausages on the grill section of the cart. Text on the umbrella reads: " _The Hogmonk's World Class Flamie Dogs"_ in a rounded-edged font.

As Suro draws closer, he examines the vendor's face. It looks young, despite being written over by stress-induced features in the forms of crow's feet, forehead wrinkles, and laugh lines. Below his medium-wide and tall nose and thick maroon lips, his hexagonal-bottomed chin is prominently defined and sharp, though partially hidden behind a small, but traditional-looking black beard hanging off the bottom. The vendor's hair is hidden for the most part neatly behind his uniform's paper cap, however the few tufts that have slipped out onto his wide forehead are of a deep dark brown, with slight gray streaks.

The heat from the grill rises, blurring the air between Suro and the vendor, who has small beads of sweat built up on his arms and cheeks.

"Flamie dogs here, get your flamie dogs here!" the vendor calls out to no one in particular, avoiding eye contact.

Suro knows that the vendor's nonchalant call was certainly targeted at him, and despite the generic nature of the statement, finds himself hooked by something subtle in the tone of the vendor's voice.

"Hey young man, you look hungry. Want a snack?" the vendor asks while looking straight at Suro, continuing to reel in the line.

That was the last straw. Suro feels starved, and as a moth goes to a light, Suro has been hooked by the stomach and is drawn to the counter of the small metal stand.

"How much would a flamie- thing cost?"

"Flamie dogs are 5 yuans a pop. They're the cheapest this side of town." Through the last half of his statement, the vendor puts on a faux-prideful smile.

Suro barely catches it out as false as he notices a slight twitch and the speed of the vendor's speech being slightly too hesitant. The vendor's tone of voice sounded completely genuine, however, and continues to throw him off. Suro remains unmoving as he tries to process the vendor's smooth mannerism.

Noticing Suro's lack of reaction, the vendor slowly drops his smile.

Suro asks the only question he can think of, feeling the pressure. He voices it carefully, bracing for the impact of a potentially mocking reaction.

"How much is that?"

The vendor's expression quickly turns sour, eyebrow raised and mouth turned inward. He crosses his arms and his muscle tightens up slightly. He speaks up with a calm voice in a tone bordering on disappointment.

"Listen, kid, do you have any money or not?"

Suro pauses for a moment, then reaches into his right pocket. He rummages around the wrinkled bills until he isolates one in between his index finger, middle fingers, and thumb. Suro pulls the bill out and examines it, tilting it around. The note is of a gradient sky blue in color, with holographic gold borders and designs delicately lacing themselves across the surface of the bill.

In the center of the bill resides a large, monastery-looking building among tall, plant-covered earthen pillars. A small label below the image reads: " _Southern Air Temple_." Suro quickly scans for any denominations of value, however upon finding none, flips the bill over.

The other side contains a similarly intricate holographic golden leaf pattern on sky blue and has an oval-shaped image in the center. Within frame stands the statue of a man standing valiantly, arm outstretched and some kind of staff in hand. The label reads: " _Avatar Memorial Island."_ Yet again finding no numbers other than small serial codes, Suro holds the note out over the counter and asks:

"This enough?"

The vendor frowns sarcastically as he gives Suro a curious look, eyebrows raised to the point that they begin to quiver.

""Keep the change." Suro says nervously.

"Are you seriously going to pay for a flamie dog with a limited edition 10,000 yuan note?" the vendor says in disbelief.

"What?" Suro replies, wide-eyed.

"You could buy a small apartment, a car, or 2,000 flamie dogs with that much money. I can barely even break a bill a tenth the size with the cash from this stand! " the man spouts chidingly while waving a hand in emphasis.

Suro's shoulders go limp as he places the bill on the counter and reaches back into his pockets. His face whitens and his skin loses color as he feels out the handful of such bills still in his pocket. Suro's rooting around slows as he attempts to calm himself through deep breaths. Withdrawing his hand from his pocket slowly, Suro picks up the bill politely, saying:

"Thank you, but I don't think I can buy a flamie dog then."

Suro starts to turn, but the vendor gently holds him by the shoulder and Suro stops in his tracks.

"Listen, I can tell you're new around here. Do you need help finding your folks?"

Suro turns towards the vendor and replies, "I don't know my parents."

The vendor bites his lip gently and glances towards Suro's bandaged, limp left arm. He begins to warmly smile.

"I'll tell you what. How about I give you a free flamie dog. You look like you need it."

Suro's stomach rumbles.

"Thank you."

The vendor begins to rotate the sausages laid out on the grill with a metal grabber. With his free hand, he reaches behind the grill and releases fire from an open palm. The flames travel out through the top of the grill and the meat begins to sizzle.

Without thinking, Suro mumbles under his breath, "Firebending..."

"Huh?" the vendor asks, busy at work preparing the bun.

Feeling brave, Suro follows up.

"Can you teach me firebending?"

"What? Oh, well I didn't take you for a firebender, kid. But sure, I've got until the end of my shift to show you a thing or two. Plus, business is pretty slow today if you can't already tell. There's a TV special going on tonight and everyone's tuning in. You want your dog with or without sauce?"

"With, I think?"

The vendor takes a red bottle, flips it upside down, and squirts red sauce onto the sausage. He wraps the flamie dog in some napkins and hands it to Suro.

"Thank you," Suro says and bows respectfully.

He takes the flamie dog and begins diligently working his way around it, biting from every direction. The savory flavor of the meat and the spicy sauce rushes Suro into enthusiastically finishing off the meal in less than half a minute.

Suro wipes his mouth on the tissues all at once and then holds them idly, not knowing where to dispose of them. The vendor pulls a small drawer out of the side of the cart with a small refuse bin in it and motions for Suro to throw the used napkins there.

As Suro does so, the vendor hands a cup of water out to Suro. Not looking where he is moving his arm, Suro accidentally knocks the cup out of the vendor's hand. Quickly noticing his mistake Suro shoots out his right arm towards the falling cup and tries to grab it before it falls. As he does this, the water hangs still in mid air and the cup lands on the ground.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." Suro sputters.

"No, it's fine. You, uh, caught it I guess." the vendor mouths out in confusion.

Suro clasps his fingers together slowly until the water combines into a fist-sized sphere. Suro brings the sphere to his mouth and siphons a small stream from it until it has vanished.

"Are you sure you can firebend?" the amused vendor asks.

Suro nods.

"Show me what you've got, then, I guess."

Suro makes the best stance he can think of and faces sideways. He folds back his ring and pinky finger, draws his arm back, and thrusts forward, focusing the force into the tip of his fingers. A fist-sized fireball comes out of his fist whilst a blue spark simultaneously dances around his wrist.

"Whoa, careful, kid! What technique are you trying to use? You can't brute force all your energy like that with such poor form or you'll end up blowing your arm off. How'd you even come up with that?"

"But that's the only way I know how to firebend. It's much harder than the others."

A look of wonder dawns upon his face, "Water, Fire, uh- others? You know others?"

"Uh-"

"That's remarkable," the vendor interrupts. "Would you mind demonstrating them for me?"

Suro nods once more, slowly.

Suro balls his right fist and motions upwards. A head-sized chunk breaks out from the asphalt and floats in front of his balled hand. Suro releases his fist and lets the rock drop to the ground, then opens his palm. He forces his hand forward swiftly, blowing a strong gust of wind out into the street.

"Impossible. You can't be." the vendor says as he puts out the grille and starts locking up his stand, "I need to show you something, follow me."

"Who are you?" Suro asks.

"My name's Ogon, and I'll answer your questions on the way."

"I'm Suro."

The man snaps a chain around the cart to a lamppost and motions to Suro, then jogs off. Suro rushes off to follow him, clutching his chest.


	11. Fire and Gold (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suro meets some new faces and uncovers an unsettling secret.

* * *

**FIRE AND GOLD (PART II)**

* * *

 

The man had led Suro a few streets down and into an apartment above a store. The interior struck Suro as similar to his own shared apartment with Araji in size and relative barrenness. Ogon walked over to a TV set and turned a knob to bring the small, line-dashed screen to life. As he turns a second knob, the initial static buzzing tunes through various images and brings the screen to rest on a TV-studio with a desk.

Several people stand behind the desk and lean over microphones, frequently switching from looking directly at the camera to each other, then to an audience below the set stage. Sound begins to come through the TeleVarrick box speakers as Suro takes a seat on a worn recliner.

"So, Zolo, tell us what you think about this season's latest fashion. I hear you tried it out, but just couldn't find your color," one of the people behind the desk says jokingly, addressing a young man to his left.

The audience laughs in waves.

"Well, you see, when you start running out of hair strands to pick a color for, there tends to be a problem," the young man responds.

The same exact laughter plays.

Though the screen is fuzzy, Suro can tell that the young man has blond, wild hair and has somewhat of a tan.

"Jokes aside, what did you think of today's festivities so far?" the female caster to the young man's left asks.

"No doubt, the show has been impressive, but there's nothing like looking forward to NEXT YEAR'S ELEMENTAL ARENA SHOWDOWN SEASON TO TOP THE PREVIOUS ONE, AM I RIGHT, PEOPLE?!" the young man shouts.

The crowd cheers along, nearly drowning out his voice halfway through.

"As we draw one more week closer to the end of the final event, how do you feel about challenging this year's top benders one on one?" the female caster asks.

"The crowd this year looks fierce, and I don't know who's gonna come out on top. I guess we'll have to wait till the finals next month to find out who tops the season and has to face me!" the young man hypes up once more and the crowd cheers.

"What specific picks do you have this season, though? Who are you looking forward to fight the most? Give us your Avatar opinion."

Suro gives out a dry cough and reels from the pain in his chest.

"Well, Blue Team's top player Okker has an icicle jab like an iceberg, Green Team's Ganji has a power stomp like a mountain, and Red Team's Uffizo has a fire spin like a cyclone. I guess those would be my most anticipated matches for next month's show tourney."

"For now, who do you think will win the standard tourney before they teams have to face you?" the host to Zolo's right asks.

"All three teams look very even right now, and we still have tomorrow to see the three top players face off, so I'll refrain from jumping the rock if you know what I mean."

The crowd laughs.

"Tell us about mistakes that you saw during the tourney so far and what techniques you would recommend instead."

"Am I allowed to demonstrate?" the young man replies, confidently raising his eyebrows and smiling at the camera.

The crowd goes wild once more, cheering and whooping. He somersaults out of his seat as the crowd claps.

"I can't list out all of the mistakes I noted, so I'll just show the biggest one from each team. Firstly, I don't think this is how you do a fire spin, Omozea," he says.

He spins, flinging flames in a circle around him, then mocks slipping and falling forward on his face. The crowd laughs as he flips back to his feet and continues:

"Jokes aside, though, the mistake that Omozea made during that fateful deuce round is a common mistake that most beginner firebender pros make. The trick is deceptively simple, as all you have to do is make sure that your torso doesn't overextend past your arm swing. You must uniformly glide so you don't trip yourself up with your own limbs. LIke so."

The young man demonstrates the same technique, flawlessly whipping blue-tipped flames around him and gracefully landing on his feet as the audience 'oohs.'

"For Green team, the mistake comes from my pick Ganji." The crowd 'huhs' as he continues:

"I know what you all are thinking, 'Not Kan's crazy headbutt miss or Dem's self-knockout?' but hear me out. While Ganji ended up winning the semifinal in the end, he nearly lost himself the tournament with one small error. If he wasn't the professional that he is, that mistake would have cost him. An error like that would have crushed a rookie.

"See, what he did wrong was when he was in the air, he decided to launch an attack against an agile target. An earthbender is a generally slow target in competitive bending due to their need to remain close to the ground to continue the fight. The only reason that Ganji won that encounter is because he happened to raise some of the arena into the air with him to use as ammo. Without that quick thinking, he would have definitely been knocked out by Paku that round. Let me show you what I mean."

The young man blasts himself upward with a jet of air and rips a metal chunk of the stage up with him.

"If you find yourself in this situation as an earthbender, the best strategy is to immediately ground pound by pulling yourself towards the nearest surface like so," he says, while hovering with a small circular ball of wind. He then releases the large stage chunk and pumps his arms to his side, pulling himself straight towards it as it descends.

He lands into the metal, indenting into it and causing it to groan as he passes through. The young man lands and catches the metal in the air, then forms it back into it place as the crowd 'aahs.'

"Finally, the Blue Team's largest error came very early on in the tournament, where Moka tripped herself on her own sheet of ice." he says and pulls liquid out from the drinks in the crowd, causing them to gasp and laugh. He floats the bubbling soda mixture in front of him and jokes, "Pardon me for the sodabending."

The laughter intensifies.

The soda freezes as he jumps onto it and slides in a circle.

"With this, there isn't really any guide. It takes practice to be able to balance and maintain momentum on ice. I recommend ice-skating for people who have trouble with it." he says, winking at the audience, then waves to the camera and dispels the frozen soda. It splashes loudly onto the stage floor. The young man gathers it up and pushes it into a nearby grate on the edge of the set.

The crowd claps and whoops as he bows.

"And that's Avatar Zolo, folks. Have a good night and enjoy your evenings."

Ogon clicks the television set off as Suro sits, dumbfounded. His mouth is open and his eyes begin to feel dry.

Ogon turns off the set and places a hand on Suro's shoulder.

"I'm not sure how to tell you this, but you might have a twin brother." Ogon says, then adds: "I didn't even know it was possible to have twin Avatars."

"I don't know if it is," Suro responds dryly.

Suro's been in the Avatar State before, he's shown use of all four elements, but he's not the only one?

"In any case, I would be honored to teach you firebending, young Suro," Ogon assures the shaken youth.

"How will I be able to compare to that guy? I can barely light a candle, let alone fire spin!" Suro exclaims.

"That's not a problem. I used to be a teacher at Fire Lord Academy back home in the Isles. I've trained students into masters who could do less than you right now." Ogon says, his voice filling with careful pride.

"When can we start?" Suro eagerly asks.

"It's late today, so it would be better to resume training tomorrow. Do you have a place to stay?"

Suro thinks for a moment, then remembers the name.

"Do you know where Jade Arms is?"

"Jade Arms?" Ogon strokes his beard.

"Yeah, it's on a wide avenue with large apartment buildings on either side."

"You must be talking about Iroh Avenue. It's one stop down on the S train."

"Is that by any chance the Sokka line?"

"Yes it is. There's a station one block up from here. I'll give you the 2 yuan fare since you have a bit too much to exchange and one of my spare ID's so you can ride whenever. Out of curiousity, how did you get such a large amount of money anyway?"

"I got lost chasing a bank robber. These bills fell out of the satchel he was carrying. He beat me pretty badly, but I don't think it's anything worse than a few bruises." Suro attempts to assure Ogon.

Ogon frowns, "I should invite my friend over to check you out. She's a licensed doctor at a big hospital here."

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

"It's a long story, but to keep it simple, I should keep out of the public eye."

"She took an oath for this, you know? I'll go and see if she can come tonight," Ogon says as he walks over to a wall-mount phone and begins dialing a number.

Suro sits patiently as Ogon picks up the phone and begins speaking.

"Hey Ahana, would you be free to stop by this evening?

"Uh-huh. Is there any way you can get out earlier?

"You're about to go into the OR? Well then, good luck.

"Yeah, tomorrow midday sounds good." Ogon clicks the phone into its mount and addresses Suro.

"Well, she can drop by tomorrow. Are you able to come around noon? Do you have school or a job at that time?"

"No work or education at the moment. I just moved in with a roommate who's in college." Suro replies.

"Need me to walk you to the station?" Ogon offers.

"No thanks." Suro says, standing up.

* * *

 

Suro arrived at the apartment as the sun had just finished setting. Feeling guilty and not knowing what to do with his pocketful of money, he shoved it under the couch cushion then lies on the same cushions that guard his trove. Suro attempted to meditate on the couch, but gave up after finding no success in reaching the astral plane.

He slid onto his side and stretched out on the cushions. Soon after he lay down on the couch, Araji came through the door holding a duffel bag under one arm and a small black plastic bag in her other.


	12. Burning Minds (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ogan begins his training with Suro. Along the way, the young Avatar makes an unexpected companion.

* * *

**BURNING MINDS (PART I)**

* * *

 

"Suro. Suro, pay attention," Ogon says sternly.

The young man's new-minted mentor stands dressed in deep crimson robes with gold lining. They seem to barely fit, part of the soft fabric around the arms and waist clinging to him. A black and gold insignia in the shape of a flame decorates the breast of the outfit.

"Yeah, sorry," Suro replies shyly, snapping out of his daydream.

"Try again, and stop staring over the edge of the roof," Ogon instructs as a breeze tosses errant strands that stick out from his hair.

The sky is clear this morning over the tenement roof of Ogon's apartment building and moisture hangs cooly in the air. The bright sun beats down upon the white painted sandpaper floor, giving it a bright aura. Suro lightly exhales from his nose then prepares to recommence his training.

Suro makes the pose Ogon had shown him a few minutes prior; one open palm crossed over his chest in front of his face, with his pointer and middle fingers arrayed perpendicularly to his nose, but several inches away. Suro positions his legs together and stands straight.

"Good, focus your energy. Feel the forces within your body, then guide them out from your fist."

Suro brings his arm to his side and throws a balled hand forward, whipping small flames.

"Nice try, now do it once more with force. For a beginner, it helps to imagine something that makes you well with emotion. Perhaps you may want to think of something that angers you or something that makes you want to fight. What lights your drive, Suro?"

"I don't know yet. Everything's new to me."

"You may think so at first, however you might be fooling yourself. What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"Exactly that. What do you want right now?"

"... To make up for a mistake."

"How badly do you wish for your mistake to be patched up?"

"That's all I want right now, but I can't do that if I can't even firebend!" Suro emotes in exasperation.

"Good! Use that feeling. Strike forward with that thought in mind."

Why is this so difficult?!

Suro strikes forward with the thought in mind and a jet of fire spews from his fist briefly before he loses focus. The flame dies out.

"Excellent. That did you much better than holding in your feelings."

"I don't like thinking about my feelings." Suro admits.

"Why not? Are you perhaps, ashamed by them?" Ogon asks.

Suro is struck by this question. His first thought is Araji before he interrupts himself and brings himself to deny it.

"No," Suro responds slowly.

"That is fine. If you do not wish to open up yet, I understand," Ogon elaborates.

Suro thinks about the lie he told in his shame and grows irritated. Clenching his fists tightly and baring his teeth, he blasts forward a slightly larger and brighter jet of flames than before and holds it, focusing on his irritation. The shame returns and cuts off his fire yet again.

"Suro, do not overexert yourself. Those who only use fire derived from rage grow too dependent, so be wary of using firebending to blow off steam. No pun intended."

Suro smiles and the brief anger drops out of the back of his mind.

"If you don't feel ready to firebend yet, how about we go over basic forms and techniques so that you will be prepared for when you do?" Ogon suggests.

"Yeah, thank you," Suro responds gratefully.

"Now drop and give me twenty hot-squats!" Ogon commands.

"What?" Suro exclaims.

"You heard me!"

Suro frantically begins to crouch and stand back up as Ogon corrects his posture mid-motion.

* * *

 

Ogon walks to open the door as Suro sits on the couch staring at the TV screen. A woman with long, blond-dyed hair in a white casual jacket enters the apartment. She greets Ogon with a loud, cheerful voice.

"Long time no see. Sorry about yesterday, but there's never a shortage of broken bones and burst spleens."

Ogon chuckles and offers to take her jacket.

"So, Ahanai, this is my coworker's kid, Suro. He got injured a while ago and I was wondering if you could check out his arm." Ogon requisitions.

"No need to sweet-talk me. Have you made a habit of picking up street urchins or do you just have a big heart?" the lady asks rhetorically and laughs. She approaches Suro, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Care to let me see your arm, Suro?"

He reaches out his left arm, struggling to lift it as it hangs limply in the air below his elbow. Ahanai takes a seat on the couch, gingerly takes his arm into hers, and inspects it. She 'hmms' a few times and turns it over.

"Does it hurt when I do this?" she says, poking a particularly dark spot on Suro's forearm.

Suro jerks in his seat. Ahanai had tapped right where he had extracted the blood.

"I see. How about here?"

She reaches further, touching the border at which his normal pale skin crosses over his elbow bone and turns dark and dry. It stings a little bit and Suro gets the urge to itch. As he reaches for his elbow, Ahanai catches his hand and gently lowers it.

"Don't scratch, it'll only make it worse," she chastises him.

Suro hangs his head innocently and lets his arm go limp in her hands. Ahanai places Suro's arm to rest in his lap and clears her throat.

"Suro, I hate to tell you this, but it doesn't look good," she says and frowns.

Suro's eyes widen. "Why? How bad is it?"

"The muscle tissue is severely damaged, and it seems that all of your capillaries have been ruptured. It would take some serious therapy for you to regain use of your arm," Ahanai announces softly.

Suro begins to shake in distress. "How long would it take?"

"With the amount of damage that's been done, it might take years of the best healing water therapy in the city. It's unlikely that you'll ever regain full use of your arm again. And that's my estimate before I take into account nerve dam-" she pauses, noticing the growing look of despair on Suro's face. She adds in a hopeful tone, "Well, you look to be a strong young man. Don't worry with the details. Hopefully you didn't get these injuries for nothing."

Suro tenses up.

"Ahanai, don't make the poor boy cry," Ogon interjects.

"Sorry, Ogon, your coworker will be furious once he finds out," Ahanai warns with a sarcastic tone.

"Well, it was worth a try, right?" Ogon jokes.

"I'm your ex, your tricks won't work on me twice, remember?" she flirts as a small black box on her jacket begins to beep.

"My pager!" she exclaims, looking at a small digital window on the box. "Looks like another accident. Figures the one week when Water Tribe surgeons get a spiritual holiday is when I have the most work."

Ahanai stands up and gives Ogon a brief hug before running out the door. After a moment of silence, Suro speaks up.

"She used to be your-?" Suro asks and is cut off by Ogon.

"Yes, we used to date before I met my wife, but that was a long time ago," Ogon wistfully replies.

"You're married?"

"I used to be, yes."

"Where is she now?" Suro asks.

Ogon's eyes lower into the bottom-right of their sockets. Dark bags emerge from underneath his lower eyelids and his mouth parts slightly.

"Sorry for asking." Suro apologizes.

Ogon takes a deep breath and at a slow pace begins: "No, I don't blame you for asking. I used to live in the Fire Nation Capital. The islands are my homeland, and I spent most of my life there. I was in a relationship with Ahanai when I was slightly older than you, but then I got accepted onto the staff of the Royal Fire Academy as a representative of the White Lotus. Next thing you know, I didn't see her as often due to my work and things fell apart.

"Sometimes, however, when one door closes another opens. Soon after that was when I met my future wife, Zala. She was a fellow instructor and one day I had to substitute for one of her classes. She came in late and the moment I laid eyes on her there was a spark. We started talking, and before you know it, we were hitched and had a kid, a beautiful daughter."

Ogon pauses and his eyes twitch, bordering on tearing up.

"As it happens, life's cruelties can strike many times, and it didn't work out again. It's been over a decade, but I still miss them every day."

The twinge of sorrow in Ogon's voice keeps Suro from pressing any further and the two sit in silence until Ogon breaks the ice.

"How about some tea?"

"That'd be nice," Suro responds.

* * *

 

Suro exists Ogon's building and places the train fare in his pocket. Halfway to the station, he overhears a commotion in an alleyway to his left.

A maroon-beige dragon about the size of Suro's forearm with rapidly-beating feathery wings zips around the corner and latches onto his shirt. It flits its wings, crawling over Suro's shoulder and winding up on his back as he hears footsteps emerging from the alleyway. A large, sweaty man in a yellow uniform swings around the corner and begins shouting.

"Hey, you. Seen a hummingdragon come out of here just now?"

Suro reads the label on his shirt: 'Chang Junior'.

"A what?" Suro stammers.

The small beast peeks over Suro's shoulders and hisses at the man, who shakes his fist at it. The dragon cowers back behind Suro and warbles.

"C'mon, leave the poor thing alone." Suro pleads.

"How dare you? This creature is property of Chang's Pet Store Emporium Trademark Pending Incorporated."

"Why's it running away from you if you own it?"

"It escaped from its cage and I've been chasing it back and forth."

"Sounds like it wants to go free."

"If you feel bad for the thing, why don't you buy it then?

"How much would that be?"

"3 yuans, pal, take it or leave it." the man sputters out amid pants and groans.

"I have 2."

"Fine, I'll take it. Just get it out of my sight," the man complains.

Suro reaches out a palm holding the two bills in his pocket and the man grabs them. He turns and stomps off around the corner, muttering.

"Thing caused nothing but trouble, good riddance..."

That was the train money...

The hummingdragon flies out from behind Suro and hovers in front of his face, darting around. It makes a curdling purr and shoots its long, proboscis-like tongue out, licking Suro's cheek. He gently waves it away from his face.

"You're free to go now, hummingdragon," Suro announces.

It stops darting and hovers in midair, its wings buzzing gently. The small creature then licks Suro once more and warbles.

"I need to go, see you later."

Suro resumes his amble towards the station and the buzzing sound continues. He looks over his shoulder at the creature.

"You can go now," he repeats scoldingly.

It flicks its tongue out and catches a fly from the air, then tilts its head from side to side.

"Fine. You can come over for dinner," Suro says, then mumbles, "At least I know what you eat."

The hummingdragon does a cheerful dance and perches itself onto Suro's left shoulder with a chirp. Resting its wings on his neck, it taps its tail against his back and quietly birdsongs. Suro carefully strokes the top of its head and continues walking to the subway station.

A large map is pinned behind a plastic case on the wall of the underground entrance. Suro looks at the detailed overview of the city. If he can read the train map, he should be able to make it back to his apartment by foot.

A peninsula sticks out into the water labelled "Yue Bay" in the middle of the map. Surrounding it is the mainland, with inlets and bays of its own. Instead of sharp and jagged land edges, the coast is composed of line segments at angles to approximate the shape of the surrounding bay and islands. Green patches are laid out in various parts of the city labelled with various names attached to the word park. A small compass overlaid onto the water show the cardinal directions, matching the directions up, down, left, and right on the map.

In the center of the peninsula sits a circular green patch labelled: "Spirit World Portal Green." Rusty copper-colored lines stretch out from both sides of the mainland and stretch across the water connecting to the peninsula, the thickest of which is labelled: "Kiyoshi Bridge."

Along these bridges and throughout the whole map of the city run multicolored lines with circles along them. On the blue line, one enlarged circle contains the symbols for: "You are here." Next to each circle sits a street name, and the dot to the right of the station symbol reads: "Iroh Avenue."

Suro stares at the map for a bit longer, tracing the blue line, then the green line, then the yellow one, and so on. Suro notices how few of the train stops run through the area near Araji's college in the south-east end of the city. There is a large gap with the familiar moniker "Dragon Flats" that sits between the "Beifong University Lane" stop and another station labelled: "Future Industries Causeway."

Across this gap runs a thick gray line that reaches out and connects to the bridges. These lines run across the whole city and cross over the landforms in one webbing network. Each segment has a different name, followed by "- District" and "Highway." The road that runs in a loop around the current stop is named "Jade District." Suro notes that the area which he is in sits distantly from the core city and bay, tucked into the north-east corner of the map.

He looks away and begins the long walk back to his apartment.


	13. Burning Minds (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Araji and Suro watch an informative documentary on the fall of the Earth Empire, where Araji explains to Suro the events he had missed since Avatar Korra defeated Kuvira.

* * *

**BURNING MINDS (PART II)**

* * *

 

Suro strolls into the main room of the flat and coaxes his new friend into the bathroom.

"I don't know what Araji will think of me bringing home a pet, so lay low, okay?" he coerces the small dragon.

It caws in understanding and retreats into the room as Suro flicks on the lights. He closes the door and lays down on the couch, closing his eyes and soon falling asleep.

Something itches his arm and he hears a scratchy static pulse. Suro jolts awake to find Araji poking his arm with a hairpin.

"Hey Araji, what's that noise?"

"Nice to see you're out of dreamland, napbender of the four elements," she jokes, "Meanwhile, I'm done fixing the TV. Wanna watch?"

"Uh, sure."

"Move aside, then. You're hogging the whole couch."

"Oh."

Suro sits up and scoots over. The bare television stands with a buzzing screen. The wires and circuits around the back of the TeleVarrick pulsate. Araji crouches, adjusting a bare knob pin on the front of the TV and channels start coming into view. Flicking through different sceneries and people's faces, the pin snaps off and the display becomes stuck on a black screen with a large R logo. The pin clinks off the floor and rolls under the couch before Araji can catch it.

She huffs, plopping herself down on the couch next to Suro. "I guess it's the Republic City History Broadcast for us."

Fuzzy sound begins to come through the speakers, just comprehensible enough for Suro and Araji to begin making out the words. Instrumental music plays and a rigid-font title screen comes up, reading " _Rise of The Earth Empire: Fall of a Democracy."_

"I saw this when it first aired two months ago. Ugh, reruns," Araji pouts, then looks at Suro. "Can you believe this?"

Suro shrugs, then Araji chuckles to herself.

"Sorry, Suro, I forgot."

Suro smiles sheepishly and Araji rolls her eyes, then the two giggle. A a deep narrator voice cuts in through the speakers.

"The Earth Empire of today- a police state, a totalitarian regime- that much is known. Despite being the largest nation on the planet, not much else is. I am your host Li, and I will guide you through the complex, layered history behind this giant realm.

"Today, the Earth Empire is content to keep to itself. Old checkpoints empty of military personnel and tumbleweeds serving as the inhabitants of the many ghost towns along the borders. But what has caused these places to become desolate and devoid of human contact? Well, let us begin in the beginning of the history of the Earth Empire that we know today.

"Eighty-three years ago, the Earth Republic was founded under the guiding hands of the last Earth king, Wu. The fledgeling democracy began to take flight after a few short years, however political turbulence soon changed the political climate of the region. Within only a few short years of the end of the first Earth Empress's reign, Kuvira was broken out of prison by mysterious revolutionaries.

"Almost seven decades ago, sixty-eight years to be exac-BZZZT!"

The TV suddenly cuts out.

"No! Argh!" Araji leaps out of her seat and verbally assails the defenseless television, shaking the plastic frame as circuits and pieces fall out and clatter onto the floor. "Why doesn't this thing work?"

Suro cowers on the edge of the couch, having moved over to avoid Araji's flailing arms.

"Don't hurt me," he jokes.

Araji simmers down and lets her arms slap to her hips as she crashes back down onto the couch.

"So, Araji. I have a question," Suro says.

"Yes, Suro…" she responds, her voice wavering and her eye twitching.

"You watched the documentary before, so I was wondering if you could tell me what happened."

"You really want to know that boring stuff?"

"Yeah, what's the world like these days?"

"Sorry, again. You must have been in there for a long time."

"I can't even remember my own name," Suro brags without realizing it.

"What do you mean? Isn't your name Suro?"

His stomach drops and his heart skips a beat.

"I- mean my last name," Suro corrects himself.

"Ah, okay. So you wanted to know about the history of the Earth Empire?"

"Yes please," Suro confirms.

"Well, if I remember correctly, the documentary said something about sixty-eight years ago. That's when the Earth Republic fell. The revolution started off as some kind of underground movement by the guys who were previously in Kuvira's inner circle-" Suro impedes her lecture with a question.

"Wait, who's Kuvira?" Suro wonders.

"Uh, well she was some kind of dictator about eighty years ago that brought the Earth Kingdom back together. She went power mad, though, and wounded up invading the Republic. The last Avatar took down her war machines and stopped her. Kuvira was thrown in prison, but her inner circle officers escaped and hid. Before long, there was a movement to restore her to power.

"Then there was this confusing period of riots, with a pretty large civil war going on in the background. The Earth Republic was far too bureaucratic and wide to be able to address the issues that its citizens were having, so more and more people joined the revolution. It became a sizeable movement that eventually overwhelmed the established government. Despite the Avatar Korra's best efforts, the Democratic Earth Empire Refugees fled to Kiyoshi Island and the Kuvirist regime was installed. Shortly after Kuvira resumed her rule though, she was assassinated.

"There's a bunch of different stories about what happened, but the Earth Empire claims that it was a rogue anti-revolutionary. Around the rest of the world, though, everyone just assumed that the Kuvirist party just did her in for their own political gain. It worked for a while, as a large part of those who initially opposed the regime felt that the Kuvirist's rule was validated by the fact that their leader became a martyr for their cause.

"The initial appeal of the "just cause" for rule soon faded as most of its subjects realized how harsh and cruel the party became. Even though Kuvira made that "follow or forced subjugation" rule and that very few opposed the regime after the assassination, it quickly transformed into a police state. Many citizens grew tired of the regime and started to wish for democracy again."

Araji shook her head. "Just as one civil war ended, many of the Kuvirist's strongest supporters flip-flopped and began fighting for freedom… again. I guess they didn't realize how much they liked their independence until they had it taken away from them."

"Why would they trust a dictatorship twice? It doesn't make any sense for them not to have seen it coming." Suro interrupts once more.

"Thing is, Suro, most people were still dreaming of the image of Kuvira, the Great Uniter, and forgot the corruption of their own country. They found themselves building the walls for the prisons that would become the infamous reeducation camps. Those same people would later be imprisoned within those same facilities all around the Earth Empire.

"Anyway, the counter-revolutionary coup groups grew larger, as former enemies joined together to take out the authoritarian regime. A very long civil war broke out, and it didn't end so well that time. The gruelling war ended when all opposition was finally crushed, but not without huge losses on both sides. During all of this, the Avatar was supporting the resistance until the moment it collapsed.

"The Kuvirist armies were too massive and too brainwashed by propaganda and, well... brainwashing for the counter-revolutionaries to overcome. The Earth Empire was in shambles after that devastating war. It went silent for a decade or two before caving in and accepting humanitarian aid. The country was in such a bad shape that it gave up maintaining the borders that their Great Uniter worked so hard to form.

"The last piece of their dream died as settlers began reclaiming territory from the Earth Empire around the borders of the Republic. There just weren't enough troops left to guard a border that large, so many cities and towns are now scattered throughout what used to be deep in Earth Empire territory. Actually, you met me in one of those towns. Living in a Republic settlement outside the Republic was a weird experience, but it didn't feel any different from living in the Republic.

"Of course, as an official measure, the Republic never claimed the territory that it had de facto control over. To this day, the Republic technically doesn't own the land, but since everyone living in those places have Republic officials, government services, their own representatives on the council, and are still citizens, the assumption is that it is now Republic territory. Ironically, the territory stretches all the way down to Omashu and Xiaofu, yet the Earth Empire has never acknowledged the existence of any Republic-controlled former Empire states.

"About twenty years ago, after having somewhat stabilized, the Earth Empire cut diplomatic ties with the rest of the world and went quiet. Republic intelligence reports believe that they are trying to reconsolidate power within the many states and are going to reemerge sometime soon. Since then though, the world's been pretty peaceful," Araji finishes.

Suro rubbed his face. "It's all so convoluted. So much has happened in recent history."

"Don't even get me started on the rest of the world," Araji jokes, then squeezes her legs together. "I have to go to the bathroom, excuse me Suro."

She gets up off of the couch and rushes to the bathroom as Suro calls out behind her.

"Wait, Araji! I forgot to tell you-"

"Later, Suro." She interjects as the door comes clapping shut behind her and the lock clicks.

Suro sits in a mild panic as there is quiet for a few seconds before he hears Araji yell.

"Do we have toilet snakes?! I thought I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore when I left Sou-Kai!"

Suro hears objects falling to the floor and getting knocked over inside the bathroom alongside hisses and high-pitched squeals. He slinks down and peeks over the top of the couch.

A few moments later, the door swings open as Araji emerges from the bathroom mostly clothed, however her sweatpants hang off of one leg. Her left hand grips the dejected-looking hummingdragon as she sternly stares at Suro. His eyes dart around, and upon landing on the wrong place he blushes.

"Suro, what is this?"

He begins lowering his head. "It's a hummingdragon,"

Realizing the state she is in, Araji quickly jumps into the other leg of her sweatpants and pulls them up.

"Why is there a hummingdragon in our apartment?" She asks.

"I bought it."

"Let me rephrase this again. Why is there a hummingdragon in THE BATHROOM?"

"I didn't know if you would let me keep it. You see, I saved it from a mean pet store owner who was chasing it and I had to pay, but I only had two yuans and it cost three, so-"

"Suro," Araji interrupts, "We're going to have a little talk about this later. I'm too tired right now, and I really need to use the bathroom."

She releases the hummingdragon and runs back into the bathroom. The dragon immediately flies to Suro and hides behind his shoulder. Suro slides down onto the couch and turns to the hummingdragon, who returns the stare. Maintaining eye-contact, the two both make shrug-like gestures, hanging their heads in unison.

"She's going to hit us, isn't she?" Suro predicts.

The dragon warbles.

"Right."

Suro breaks the contemplative silence that follows.

"I think I'll name you... Humok."


End file.
